Help, I'm Alive
by TWDFan208
Summary: After Season 2 finale. A new group finds them and offer their help, which includes a beautiful doctor that gives them hope for a cure. Daryl is captured by her as well as this new hope. Summary sucks :P . Daryl/OC
1. Two Paths Collide

**Two Paths Collide**

_Sarah_

"So, how long is this trip again? Over."

"Stop complaining and drive. It's only been twenty minutes. Over," Scott replied by walkie-talkie. He turned to Sarah and said "We should have put Marco in charge of communications."

Sarah shrugged "Rosalyn just gets nervous on car rides. She'll stop soon."

The silver Nissan Altima drove in front of the blue Honda Civic. Scott and Sarah were in the first, with Marco and Rosalyn close behind. Their group was small compared to some of the others they'd seen. But it worked, proven by the fact that everyone was still alive.

Sarah hugged her knees to her chest and peered out the window. If she saw a walker her heart rate didn't race anymore. She loved being in the car because that's where she felt the safest. In the distance, she saw cars and a motorcycle on the road. She pointed and said "Do you see the cars? I think we should stop!"

Scott nodded and handed her the walkie-talkie. "Radio the others".

Sarah did, and the two cars came to a stop, parking right next to the other three. They didn't bother pulling off the road- what were the chances of another car driving through?

Before they got out of the car, Scott took the gun from his belt and set it on the seat. "The best way to stay safe is to avoid presenting them with a threat." He used the walkie-talkie to tell Marco and Rosalyn to do the same.

They quietly shut the doors behind them, and Sarah wished she was back in the air conditioned car instead of the hot, muggy air of Georgia.

Sarah heard someone yell, "Hey guys, we've got company!"

It came from an Asian boy standing atop a stone wall, apparently the guard on duty for the group. Sarah had a keen sense of hearing, and picked up on the noises of people running around the camp, probably handing out shotguns.

"Who's there?" they heard a man's voice bellow.

"There are four of us here," Scott said. "We aren't armed and we're not trying to raise any trouble."

Marco shook his head; mostly because of the way he was brought up, he didn't approve of such pacifist techniques such as Scott's. But since Scott took the role as leader of the group and acted as a sort of father figure for the other three, Marco didn't argue much.

"Well you stay there, we'll come to you," the same male voice replied. A few seconds later, three men emerged from the camp. One held a crossbow, while the other two carried guns. The group of four on the road stood together and showed their hands, so that the approaching bunch knew they hadn't lied about the absence of weaponry.

Scott spoke again, "We saw your cars and decided to stop; we're just passing through. I think we'd all agree that it's nice to see some new faces now and again."

Sarah's heart pounded in her chest, waiting for the others to respond. People were usually kind when Scott displayed his nonviolent and polite nature, but in the place that the world turned into, it was hard to predict how anyone would react to newcomers. She held her breath until the three men lowered their guns.

Thanks for reading my first chapter! Sorry, not a ton of Daryl, but I just needed to get some of the characters introduced. It'll get better, promise. Thanks for reading!


	2. A Generous Offer

**A Generous Offer**

_Sarah_

"Well I don't see anything wrong with them coming in to meet everyone," one of them said to the other two.

Scott, Marco, Rosalyn, and Sarah followed them to the campsite, where a fire was burning. There were a few women cooking what seemed to be lunch and everyone sat in a circle. "Take a seat," the man gestured to an open patch of dirt. "My name's Rick." He went around the circle and introduced everyone: "This is T-Dog, my wife Lori and son Carl, Carol, Hershel, Maggie, Glenn, Beth, and Daryl." A few of them nodded and smiled, or gave a faint wave. Everyone looked absolutely exhausted.

Scott, as the other spokesman, introduced the newcomers. "I'm Scott, and this is Rosalyn, Marco, and Sarah."

"Have you been here long?" Sarah asked softly.

"We just spent the night. We're going to try and find some supplies today…we ran out of gas last night so we had to stop," Lori explained.

"You came from the west, right? Are there any towns nearby that aren't overrun with walkers?" Rick asked, looking hopeful.

Sarah thought about what Rick had called them, "walkers". She liked it more than Marco's term, "dead fuckers".

"We just left one this morning. Completely deserted, and there are some supplies left over," Marco said in his mafia kid accent.

The group looked at each other, happy to hear such good news. "How far?"

"It's about twenty minutes driving. So it might take a while to walk there," Scott said. He thought for a moment. "Tell you what. You seem like perfectly nice people. We stayed there for about a week and know where things are. I'm sure these three would agree with me that it's no problem to take you all there."

Sarah heard Marco sigh next to her, a sign of his frustration. He believed Scott was much too kind to the people they came across.

"Well ain't that a generous offer." Daryl eyed them somewhat suspiciously. Sarah fought herself from correcting his grammatically incorrect 'ain't'.

"It is a very kind offer," said Hershel without a hint of suspicion. He seemed to be only a bit older than Scott. "But we don't really have anything to give in return."

"We're set on supplies. We just want to help out our fellow humans a bit. There are not a lot of us left, after all," Scott replied, brushing off Hershel's comment with a care-free wave of hand.

The circle was quiet for a moment before Rick accepted their offer. They offered the newcomers some lunch, and they graciously accepted. In a few short hours they were packed up and on their way back into town.


	3. The Things They Carried

**The Things They Carried**

_Daryl_

The line of four cars- plus his motorcycle- drove into the good-sized, but desolate town on the main street. At one end there was a motel. A couple bars lined the street, as well as a supermarket and gas station. They followed the Nissan to the gas station parking lot and circled up to talk.

Rick spoke to the group. "I talked to Scott and we're going to split up and go through these different stores. Lori, Carl, Rosalyn, Beth and Carol will stay here and try to get as much gas as possible. Scott said they have about fifty gallons stored so I'm sure we can get a fair amount. Scott, Glenn, and Maggie can head to the supermarket. Marco will take T-dog and I to the police station…hopefully there will still be some guns there. That leaves Daryl and Hershel to go with Sarah to stock up on meds at the pharmacy."

"Dad, can't you stay here with me?" Beth looked as though she were going to cry. Daryl figured that since she just lost her mother last night, she didn't want to risk losing her father the very next day.

Before Hershel got a chance to say something, Daryl said, "The pharmacy ain't far. She and I will be fine; he should stay here." Beth looked at him gratefully.

Daryl watched as the Italian guy protested. "Sarah couldn't hit a target two feet away if she tried, she needs more than one person to protect her."

"Well Daryl's the best shot in the group, they'll be fine," Rick told Marco, who still looked unsatisfied. He said something in Sarah's ear before she walked over.

He watched as she bent down to Carl, who was standing next to them and said, "Grab yourself a candy bar while you're in there. Snag me one too if you would. I'm a big Snickers fan," she winked at the kid and then turned to Daryl. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded and slung his crossbow around his shoulder, after tucking a handgun into his belt.

The group split and the two of them started walking. "It's too damn quiet for a town this size. I don't think trust it much."

"The only time they come out here seems to be at night. Like Scott said, we've been staying in that motel. We just don't go outside when they are. I think most of the town headed right to Atlanta."

They were quiet for a minute. "None of you talk like you're from these parts. How'd you get so far south?"

"We're all from New York City. I grew up with Marco and Rosalyn. The three of us were on a plane to Florida when things went to hell. Scott was there too, but we didn't know him then. We aren't sure what happened…but something shot down the plane and we landed in a lake. I think it was the military." Her voice dropped even softer, and Daryl had to strain his ears to listen. "We landed in the water and the four of us were the first out. We were able to swim to shore before a bomb that was attached to the plane exploded." She sounded so sad for a few moments. Daryl didn't know what to possibly say, he never had a way with words. Silence seemed his best friend at the moment. Fortunately, he didn't have to think on it long or come up with anything. "Well, here we are!" she exclaimed.

**Alright, I hope everyone likes it so far! I know I'm starting off this series super slow between Daryl/Sarah but I'm just giving it the time it needs so the characters can fully develop. Reviews are always encouraging so it'd be great if you left one! As always, thanks for reading.**


	4. Defenseless

**Defenseless**

_Daryl_

They walked inside the CVS and Sarah led him to the pharmacy counter that had barely been picked over. "So, are you from Georgia?" she asked.

"Born and raised." He wouldn't be much help with picking the medicine so he leaned back against the counter, really looking at her for the first time. Her long blonde hair just brushed the small of her back. You could tell it was real because the roots would have grown out and shown themselves by that time otherwise. She was a petite woman, only around 4'11 if Daryl had to wager a guess. He noticed that she had nice curves in all the right places and was slight everywhere else.

Sarah seemed to know exactly what they would need, not wasting any time grabbing the wrong bottle or looking at the information labels on the side. She placed them in a rectangular shopping basket beside her. "You seem to know a lot about all this," Daryl said.  
"After twelve years of medical education I certainly hope so," she smiled at him. "Pharmacy wasn't my specialty, but I got to know the basics of nutrition and general health at school."

Twelve years? Daryl hadn't even graduated high school. He smirked a bit, remembering his high school years, and then looked at her.

"Would you mind grabbing some toothpaste? I forgot that on my last run. I think you'll find it in aisle five if I remember correctly," she said.

He nodded and walked to the other side of the store. Daryl stopped in front of the assorted boxes with their various promises of blinding white teeth in three days. _'Zombie apocalypse happens and there's still too many goddamn choices_,' he thought.

As he contemplated what one he should bring back, he heard a crash at the back of the store and Sarah screamed the word "Help!"

He ran while loading his crossbow. A walker with guts hanging off its face lunged at Sarah, who threw a bottle of pills at it. The pills bounced off and hit the floor, and Daryl shot the walker. The arrow went straight through its eye.

He bent down to pull it out, wiping the blood on his pants. "What the hell was that, you think a goddamn plastic bottle's gonna save your life?"

She seemed too out of breath to answer, so Daryl sighed and picked up the basket of meds she had already collected. "Come on," he said gruffly. He put a hand between her shoulders and ushered her through the front door.

**This is the last short chapter, I promise! From now on they'll be around double the length, haha. And as a bit of a surprise, I'm uploading another chapter in about two minutes! Things are cooking now, by golly. Enjoy :P**


	5. The VegetarianBohemianEnvironmentalist

**The Vegetarian/Bohemian/Environmentalist**

_Sarah_

Marco jogged toward her as Daryl walked her back to the ring of cars. His hand dropped from her shoulder as Marco pulled her to his chest. "I worried for ya," he said, eyeing Daryl. "You seem all jumpy, did something happen back there?"

"Just a walker, wasn't even a close call," Daryl said to him with an air of confidence.

Marco seemed to ignore him and say, "Next time, you're coming with me. No more splitting up."

Sarah shrugged, still too shaken to argue. Though Daryl said it hadn't been a close call, it was the closest she had ever gotten to one of those hideous creatures. At any rate, she thought it odd that Marco had been so protective over her since they met up with the new group.

"Got you that Snickers like you asked." The little boy, Carl, handed her the chocolate goodness.

She smiled as her breath began to slow to the normal rate. "Thank you Carl! You picked yourself out something too, right? Growing boys need their candy." She poked his stomach.

He smiled and nodded, holding up a KitKat bar.

The rest of the group shortly returned and the sun began to dip toward the horizon. "We should probably get set up in the hotel soon," Scott said. "It's safe as long as we keep the lights off and doors locked when the sun goes down. There aren't too many walkers around here, but let's not take any chances."

Rick nodded. "I agree with that."

They drove the cars next to the motel. Scott walked up to Rosalyn, Sarah, and Marco and told them that he would be talking to Rick for a while and to go get settled into their rooms. Rosalyn and Sarah decided to share one like before. They brought a few rations inside: a light dinner of canned pears. And the Snickers bar of course. Sarah changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top for bed.

"So what happened at the store? You seemed pretty freaked when you got back," said Rosalyn. "Marco was flipping his shit, like that's anything new."

"A walker attacked me and Daryl saved me with that bow thing. He's a good shot."

"Think he learned how to do that by slaughtering poor little bunnies and deer?" She shuddered.

Sarah rolled her eyes at her vegetarian/bohemian/environmentalist friend. They had gone to the same private school together since kindergarten and kept in contact through all of college, along with Marco of course. "It's kind of becoming necessary to hunt and kill to eat," she said to Rosalyn, who was in the middle of cutting her short brown hair into an even shorter pixie cut.

"How can you say that when we have so many canned provisions?" she sighed, apparently giving up on convincing Sarah to join the vegetarian movement. "Anyways, I'm glad that he saved you."

"Me too," she said. "Oh my god! I completely forgot to thank him…I'll go right now!"

"Why don't you just wait until the morning? It's going to be dark soon."

"I'll be back in a little bit, don't worry about it," Sarah said, grabbing a zip-up hoodie on her way out. "I don't want him to think I forgot."

Everyone else seemed to be in their rooms already. The setting sun painted the sky a brilliant blood-red and orange. Sarah racked her brain, trying to remember the room Daryl had gone into. She followed her gut and softly knocked on the door of room number 506.

She knocked again after hearing no reply. After a third time, the door opened. "Need somethin'?"

"Hi, um, may I come in?"

"If it suits ya," he said, stepping aside so she could enter. She saw his arrows sitting out on a towel.

"Did you just clean them?"

"Yeah. Get pretty grimy after a while."

Sarah thought again about how the arrow had gone straight through the walker's eye. He gestured to the bed for her to take a seat, and slumped down in an armchair in the corner.

"I wanted to say thank you for today…I didn't get the chance to earlier. And sorry about Marco, he's just a little overprotective at times."

"Don't need to thank me…and I don't pay no mind to what your boyfriend has to say either."

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend! Well not anymore. It's a long story I guess," she said.

He changed the subject. "Some doctor you are, proddin' that kid to get chocolate."

She laughed, "Well my line of work has nothing to do with dentistry! I believe a little chocolate here and there is good for the body anyways."

"What is your line of work?" he asked.

"Neurology. I had just submitted my research on sleep deprivation to a scientific publisher when everything went down. That's why my friends were taking me to Florida, to celebrate." She felt empty knowing that all the work she put into that fifty page report was lost forever.

"Neurologist- brain science?"

"That's right."

Daryl was quiet for a few moments. "We were at the CDC a while ago. This crazy son of a bitch scientist told us all about the infection. Rick just told us yesterday that we all have it…must be activated by death somehow. But when we were at the lab, the doctor showed us how the brain turned back on in certain places."

She nodded and spoke quickly, excited to tell someone about her potential breakthrough. "That's exactly right. I have some ideas as to what it is and maybe even how to fix it. Unfortunately, I don't have the lab equipment or anything here to get much done. That's why the four of us are headed to Savannah. Scott has a boat nearby the city at his summer house and he said he's a decent sailor. I need him to bring me back up to Cambridge so I can get back to work. I think the ocean route is the safest way to do that."

Daryl got up from the chair and kneeled in front of her. She was so short sitting that their eyes were nearly parallel. In them, she saw the same look of disbelief that everyone else gave her. "You're telling me you have the cure?"

"Just ideas. Like I said, I haven't had the chance to do testing…I'm sure that's what Scott is bringing up tonight too, probably seeing if your group will join ours. I can't imagine having much luck, no one has hope anymore it seems, not that I can blame them." Sarah happened to look outside, and the sun was completely beneath the horizon. "Shit…Rosalyn is probably freaking out. Cut the lights."

Daryl did and Sarah peered through the peephole on the door. There were already three walkers pacing around, groaning miserably. "I don't know what to do," she said, mostly to herself.

"Sleep here, I'll take the floor," Daryl said. "You can't go back out there now. Not with your survival skills at least."

She gave him a dirty look, even though he couldn't see her through the thick darkness. They lowered their voices to a whisper. "Did you lock the door?" she asked.

"Good call." He stumbled to the doorway and clicked the lock right before they heard a walker pound against it. Sarah gasped in surprise and in an instant Daryl was by the bed with a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. "They can't get in," he whispered an inch away from her ear. She could smell the dried blood on his hand, left over from cleaning the arrows. She began to shake because she was so nervous, and he put his other hand on her shoulder to steady her. For the first time in a while, she started to feel safe.

**Hope the length is a bit more appeasing this time. Also, there are links on my profile page for all the OC characters if you want to see how what they look like to me! If you have your own description in your head then you don't have to change it, but they're there as an option haha. Thanks again for reading, please review! **


	6. Two Different Worlds

**Two Different Worlds**

_Daryl_

They sat in silence, one hand pressed over her smooth lips and the other resting on her shoulder. A cure…he could barely wrap his head around it. He hadn't even bothered to ask what it was, sure that he wouldn't comprehend the medical jargon anyways.

The walker that bumped against the door wandered away and he felt her breathe a sigh of relief. He removed his hands from her and crossed the room to get some blankets to put on the floor.

His eyes finally adjusted to the dark room and he saw her lay down on the bed. Daryl spread one or two blankets on the floor and stretched out on them. It had been difficult for him to sleep lately, so he laid there staring up at the ceiling. Usually he found himself thinking about Merle or one of his friends that he'd lost. If he was in an even rarer mood, his mind might drift to his father. Many of the childhood memories were repressed by then, but in his mind he caught glimpses of his mother getting thrown into the trailer wall. His father would swear, breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. It was a smell that seemed to sink into everything. They carpet, couch, and even Daryl's clothes constantly gave the tell-tale signs of an abusive household. It went unnoticed, however. Many (if not most) of the other kids at Daryl's small public school dealt with the same misery.

The smell of illicit drugs was reserved for their shed behind the trailer, and their father threatened to kill them if they ever dared to enter. Once, Merle somehow convinced Daryl to sneak into the shed with him and one of Merle's friends, Jimmy. Daryl remembered that he was thirteen at the time, the age where younger siblings always want to be involved in whatever the older ones are doing. It was that day that he got high for the first time, and Merle left with Jimmy while they laughed their asses off.

He was lying on the floor when his father entered later that night. His father broke his promise that night- he delivered a beating that all but killed Daryl, and he remembered wishing that it did. After that day, the drugs and alcohol became Daryl's own compulsion for survival in his world.

Daryl looked over to Sarah when she started making whimpering noises in her sleep and speaking incoherently. He had spent enough time with his own group to realize that just about everyone had nightmares these days. Everyone except Daryl; he didn't dream much.

The whimpering got louder. He tossed the blankets off of him and walked around the bed, contemplating what exactly to do. Wake her up and bring her from her apparent terror or let her be? He sat on the bed beside her, trying to decide while the moonlight illuminated her pale skin.

The comfort of the bed overwhelmed him when he sat down; it was something he hadn't had the chance to enjoy in so long. Before he knew it, he was laying down right beside her. At this point, he hoped she didn't wake up. The last thing he wanted was to give their potential lifeline the idea that he was trying to get some.

Daryl was just about to doze off when she shot up gasping for air. She looked around like a crazy person, eyes finally setting on him. He sat up a bit, nervous that she would say something about the fact that he was in bed with her.

"Bad dream, huh?" he managed.

She looked a bit disoriented, but after a few seconds, answered "Yes…I can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep. It's probably a good thing I'm not sleeping in Rosalyn's room right now. She tends to get cranky when I wake her up while talking in my sleep."

"You don't think it bothers me?" he was joking, but she gave him a hurt look. He changed the subject. "What's her problem anyways, kept giving me dirty looks all afternoon."

Sarah yawned and propped herself up against the headboard, making no mention of the fact that he was laying on the same bed as her. "Well, she's a bit alternative and thinks you're an animal killer…she doesn't understand how that's necessary now. Rose was a love child and her parents are basically hippie's still. Or were." She paused for a few seconds and continued. "I remember being shocked whenever I went over to her house. Their whole family was well to do and everything, but nothing went to waste. And I mean _nothing_. Everything you could possibly think of was reused. It's not a bad thing, of course, they were just a bit excessive." Sarah gave a small laugh, her straight white teeth shining in the dark.

_'City folks…' _Daryl thought. "Yeah well we'll see how long Ms. Going Green lasts when your canned shit runs out." Once again, he bit his tongue. He hoped that his quick mouth hadn't offended her.

Thankfully, she only gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's never bothered Marco and I. We still eat our meat every day."

"Just like a real Italian."

"Yeah," she smiled again. "His family's been tied to the mafia his whole life. It was pretty dangerous; his dad taught him how to shoot guns when he was pretty young. My parents hated that I was friends with him of course; they didn't like me dealing with their kind or really doing anything potentially dangerous. It's probably why he and I stayed friends so long, to be honest. I disobeyed my parents really often and I was such a spoiled only-child brat. They really didn't even deserve the way I acted to them, now that I think about it. My dad was a CEO and paid my way through Harvard's med school as long as I got the grades on my own. I regret so much of it now…I hate the way I treated everyone in my family."

"No use regretting things ya can't do anything about," he told her, looking at his hands. He thought of his brother again. "I lost my brother, Merle, a while back. We were never close, but he was the only kin I had left." His voice was as empty as his heart; he and Merle were brothers, sure. But never close.

"I'm sorry," she said, giving him a pitying look. He suddenly wished he hadn't told her anything about himself; he hated feeling others' sympathy. She continued speaking. "The four of us have been so fortunate…I mean I have my two best friends still and Scott is like a father to us. I haven't been able to contact my parents in New York, though. I hope they're still there when I go back. Maybe they made it somewhere safe."

"Our group hasn't been nearly as lucky, we've lost a lot of people." Daryl continued on to tell her about Sophia and what happened at Hershel's farm. He even told her about Shane and Rick, their new dictator. "We lost a lot of hope after Sophia and Dale passed. And after the farm got attacked…" he looked down at his hands.

Sarah's eyes looked watery. "That's horrible…It sounds like we've been living in absolute paradise compared to your people." She dabbed at the tears and suddenly changed her tone of voice to one of wonder. "I can't believe you survived an arrow going through your stomach. Can I see it?"

Daryl thought about asking if she could handle it, but then felt foolish. _'She's a damn doctor, of course she can handle it._' He lifted up his shirt and showed her the place where the tip pierced through. She leaned over and squinted through the darkness. "Wow, Hershel did an amazing job fixing you up. You're lucky that you had him around, not many people could patch this up without some sort of training."

He flinched at her icy touch when she ran her fingers over the stitches. Daryl thought she would be warm, but was terribly wrong. "Dammit woman, cold hands."

"Bad circulation, mostly just my hands and feet," she explained apologetically. "You'd think that since I came from the north I'd be a little more used to the cold. Maybe I was always meant to end up somewhere like Georgia where it's hot out all the time."

As Sarah folded the covers back over her arms, he wished she would have left them on his side, touching his badass scar. Although it was shockingly cold, it had been a long time since he felt the touch of a woman…at least two months before the first day of the end of the world. It was with Britney, the local trailer park whore. He remembered her oily dark hair and anorexic-looking body on her bed beneath him. He thought of the way she didn't even look at him or say anything.

The girl next to him now was the exact opposite it seemed, not that he even knew her that well. She closed her eyes, but continued to lie on her side facing him. He felt overcome by the want to trace her body with his warm hands and it took all his willpower to stop himself from acting on it. He reminded himself that she expected him to be "respectable".

As if to read his mind, she said, "You can sleep here up too, by the way. It's probably been a while since you were on an actual mattress…and you seem trustworthy enough."

Daryl was glad she clarified. He watched her for a bit while she fell back to her slumber, not knowing quite what to think of her. He was the opposite of a city person; that much was true. _'She went to Harvard, grew up in a billionaire flat, and wouldn't have given me the time of day then. Why should I be friendly to her now?' _he thought, settling on the idea that she must have been a snob before. The only reason she wasn't now had to be for survival. Somehow, he still doubted the notion.Or maybe he just hoped it wasn't true.

She was obviously book-smart if she was a doctor, but she seemed lacking in the common sense department. Using a pill bottle to fend off a zombie? He smirked at the memory of earlier that day.

Her breathing became heavy and he could tell that she was falling back asleep. Her long eyelashes splayed against her cheeks. Without an explanation, Daryl suddenly felt very self-conscious. He wondered if she could tell that he hadn't showered in several days, especially because she happened to look so clean. He tried to ignore the thoughts, but found himself in the cold shower a few moments later.

Daryl returned to the bed shirtless, almost intentionally making noise so that she would wake up and see his muscular torso, as well as his other scars. Again, he wasn't sure why he felt the need to do this. Perhaps, the idea of trying to impress a girl just seemed so _normal_, so pre-apocalypse. Maybe he just wanted to regain a little normalcy in his life. She was still breathing deeply when he laid down beside her once more, putting himself in a propped-up position against the headboard. For the last time that night, he studied her.

The loose blue tank top she wore showed an ample amount of cleavage, which didn't help him to erase his thoughts about sex. A few strands of hair were in her face and he held his breath while he carefully pushed them back, hoping she was a heavy sleeper.

She was probably the prettiest girl he'd ever seen in person; her kind just didn't grow up in the places that he did. The places that were never meant for beautiful people to inhabit. Daryl thought on this a few moments until he drifted off to sleep. For the first time since he could remember, he dreamt.


	7. The Pledge of Allegiance

**The Pledge of Allegiance**

_Sarah_

She was the first to wake up the next morning. The sun was just coming up so she knew it was early. Sarah had never been someone to sleep past eight, even on the weekends. It was a bit ironic, as her most recent research dealt with sleep deprivation and she was usually deprived of it. But it was just her personality to use every possible hour of the day; otherwise, she felt as though she was wasting it.

Daryl was still asleep next to her on the queen sized bed. He was propped up a bit against the headboard and slept on top of the blankets with his arms folded across his bare chest. She took a moment to admire his lean, strong physique. He was rugged and strong in a way that couldn't be earned at a city gym. Sarah imagined him before the infection, running around in the forest of his hometown and bringing home game for his family. She wondered if he was married or had children, and what his parents were like.

It was the first time she spent the night in the bed of a man she barely knew, but she was relieved to find that he didn't try anything. Sarah washed her face in the bathroom sink and then peered out the front window of the room. There were no walkers in sight, so she thought it was best to leave before Marco found out she left Rosalyn's room. She looked back at Daryl, wondering if she should wake him. _'Better not…'_ she thought. _'These people need as much rest as they can get'_.

Quietly, she knocked on the door to the room she was supposed to be sharing with Rosalyn.

"What the hell happened last night," Rosalyn questioned accusingly as soon as she opened the door. "You look dreadfully tired. Oh God, I know that look, you slept with him didn't you? Marco won't be happy…"

"I just had a hard time sleeping. We slept in the same bed, but I didn't have sex with him, Rose. Sorry I didn't come back last night; it just got dark before I even realized it." Sarah was annoyed that yet again someone brought up Marco. Why didn't anyone seem to understand that he was her _ex_-boyfriend and absolutely nothing more? Even if she had slept with Daryl, what could Marco possibly have to say about it?

Rose gave her a suspicious look again. "Well I saw you eyeing him up yesterday, before you even went to the pharmacy. It's the motorcycle, isn't it?"

Sarah always had a weakness for attractive men on motorcycles. She bit her lip and smiled. "You have to admit he's hot when he's riding that bike." Sarah thought he was just as hot off of it too, but thought it was probably not the best time to share that information with Rosalyn.

"He's not even your type, don't you dare think about sleeping with him," she said. "So he rides a motorcycle. You're all of a sudden spending the night in his room? Sarah open your eyes, this guy has white trash written all over him. Where he's from, they probably don't even recycle," she lowered her voice to a disgusted tone on the last sentence.

"I didn't have sex with him! He saved my life Rose; you don't have to be such a bitch about it. He seems like a really nice guy…genuine. We don't know a lot of those, do we Rose? I'm not trying to date him; I just said that he was hot on his motorcycle! So I don't know what your deal is, but just stop. He saved my life and regardless, he deserves the same respect as everyone else."

"I hate it when you get in your damn preachy moods," Rose said. "Whatever, I'm sure Marco will be so glad to hear that you slept in Daryl's room. Good luck explaining that one to him."

"I don't owe Marco any explanation."

"Well, I doubt he feels the same way about that." Rose took out a pack of cigarettes. "I'm going to go smoke. When I'm back, we'll go meet up with Scott and Marco."

Sarah nodded, too out of it to even argue about Marco or the previous night any longer.

Though the zombie apocalypse had taken place, Sarah hadn't gone more than one day without showering. Her germophobic tendencies came as a side-effect after her medical career began. She stepped in the shower's cool stream of water. Shivering, she thought of the night before again, when she heard Daryl get up and turn the faucet on a few seconds later. Sarah remembered the feel of his arrow's wound and how he had shied away when she touched it, but told the story with a hint of glory. She wished her hands weren't so cold and that she could have just kept touching his nicely shaped abdomen. His confident air and rugged exterior made her wish he _had_ tried something after he crawled into bed with her, though she dismissed the thought as inappropriate the moment it crossed her mind.

Somehow the same thought and idea kept coming back. She dressed, trying to remember the face of the last man who saw her naked. His name was Tom, and they dated for about two months. She didn't care for him much; she had still been in love with Marco. It wasn't a huge surprise that she could barely remember what he looked like. However, being "in love" with Marco seemed an overstatement. It was more of the idea of Marco; he had always been her badass Italian mafia boy that would protect her and make undercover dealings. He was her Romeo, whom she was forbidden to see by her overprotective (and snooty) father. Everything about him seemed exciting, especially in Sarah's teenage years.

But since she didn't even know if her father was alive, the thrill seemed to be gone. Marco didn't have his gang anymore, and he lacked the streets he used to own. The confident air that had once been a drug in her youth and twenties had faded into a sullen and suffocating air. She was getting to the point where she could hardly stand being around him. The overprotectiveness emphasized that feeling even more.

Rose reentered a few moments later, and they went out to catch up with Scott, who was busy talking to Rick again outside. The other group's leader turned to Sarah and said, "So, you really think you've got a shot at this cure?"

She chose her words carefully again. In her medical education, they would call this liability protection. Although the people couldn't exactly sue her as a doctor now, she wasn't really in the business of crushing their hopes either. "I can't make any promises. I mean I have a few theories that I've written down, that's all. I haven't even had the chance to test any."

"Rick says that he's going to talk to his group about coming with us," Scott told her, while Rick nodded.

"Well we could really use all the help we could get," she said to Rick. "We've been fortunate so far, just to find this town and a few other deserted ones on the way from the plane crash. We've barely hit any walkers. But I was talking to Daryl a bit last night, and it sounds like what your people have seen is a hell of a lot worse and the direction you came from happens to be the way we're headed. We have no idea what we're up against. But if you do decide to come with, I just need you and everyone else to understand that my research isn't a guarantee. We would really appreciate any help though."

Rick was quiet for a few seconds; she could tell he was thinking. Finally, he said "We weren't really sure where we were headed next anyways…Coming with you could give us a goal and I believe that we need that. The other goals that we've had lately didn't work out so well. It would be nice to give everyone something to strive toward. Maybe it would do something to make us stronger. I'll talk to my wife and the others today and we'll let you all know later."

Sarah nodded and smiled, happy that he would at least consider it. After he walked away, she said to Scott, "I really do hope it works out this time."

"I have a good feeling about these people," he said. "They're a bit crestfallen, a bit more than you and me, but they haven't completely given up hope either. You can see it in their eyes."

Scott left change clothes, passing by Daryl who had just come out of his room. The southern man walked straight toward Sarah, looking determined in a way. "Good morning," she called, leaning back against the dark blue Honda Civic, basically in an attempt to look cool.

"Morning. Look, I was thinking about what you said last night. About that cure. I'm sure you know by now that Rick makes all the calls around here; they aren't always the right ones. Our group's broken. I told you last night about the power struggle we've dealt with. If we went with you, he'd have to give up his role to Scott; I'm not sure he's ready to take that risk." He ran a hand through his hair and continued in his sweet southern drawl, an accent that Sarah hadn't particularly liked until that point. "What I'm trying to say is, even if the whole group ain't going with you, I am."

Sarah was taken aback at first, surprised by his seemingly hasty decision making. She thought about it for a few minutes, inexplicably happy because of what he told her. It made her think that even if the rest of Daryl's group decided against coming with them, she would still be satisfied. After all, they said Daryl was the best shot and hunter in the group. She assumed that he would have all the knowledge—if not more—of what to expect when they started their journey. She was cautious, however, to keep her hopes from jumping too high. "Are you sure about this? I mean you took less than twenty four hours to decide."

"What's wrong, don't want me coming with now?" he asked accusingly.

"No, no! Nothing like that. I just don't want you to think that you made a mistake on leaving your group later," she said quickly, not wanting him to think the wrong thing. "Rick is talking to the rest of you soon though, so who knows? Maybe they will all come with." She paused, then added "I'm happy that you've decided to come with us. Thank you so much, you have no idea what it means to me."

He looked at her silently and she couldn't really read the look he was giving her. So instead of waiting for a response, she reached her petite arms up around his neck and hugged him, feeling his arm twist around her waist.

"Don't have to thank me…" he said in her ear before both dropped their arms.

Then Sarah heard an all-too-familiar voice coming from behind her. "I was looking for you all morning. Busy making friends?" Marco stood beside her. "Cute." Before she had a chance to deliver her witty comeback, he had grabbed her arm and was pulling her to the other side of the motel's parking lot.

"What the hell was that," she asked, yanking her arm free from his grip.

"I don't like you hanging around that Daryl guy; seems like kind of a creep to me."

"You don't like me hanging around _any_ guy, Marco. And that _creep_ happened to save my life yesterday."

"So you slept with him to repay him? Whatever, but just be done with it. There's no use leading him on. We all know you're too much of a city girl to last with a redneck like that."

Sarah sighed, figuring that Rosalyn had filled him in on where she was last night. "Where I'm at is none of your business. You know I'm not a whore, but if you want to think that, fine. I don't even care anymore We're just friends now Marco…you made that perfectly clear before so I'm not sure why you're blurring the lines again now." She turned on her heel and walked away before he had a chance to respond. All she wanted was for him to think about it and let her statements put him in his rightful place-the backburner of her mind.


	8. The Ride

**The Ride**

_Daryl_

The look that Marco gave him when he walked away with Sarah in tow stayed in Daryl's mind. It was supposed to be a somewhat threatening look that read: _Stay away. Or else._

Daryl didn't find it threatening; rather, somewhat amusing. "Yeah, well fuck you too," he said under his breath to the other man when they were just out of earshot.

Daryl's original group gathered for a breakfast of pop-tarts that were scavenged from the grocery store by Glenn, Maggie, and Scott the day before. He hated the taste of sugar in the morning, and would have much preferred squirrel or any other type of meat, but Daryl supposed that the glucose-packed rectangle would have to do.

Rick began talking. Everyone else in the group was still clearly shaken by the fact that he had killed Shane and declared himself official leader. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at him, excluding Daryl. He wasn't afraid to disobey the "rules", especially now that he had someone else to put his faith in. "Scott was telling me a bit about where they're headed last night. It turns out that Sarah's a neurologist…and they're on their way back to the medical labs she studied in during graduate school. They plan to drive to Savannah and then take Scott's boat up to Massachusetts. She has ideas on how to fix this mess and I don't want everyone to get their hopes up too high, but right now her research is our best bet."

Everyone looked around to each other, excited to hear the news. Chatter filled the air and Daryl sat down on the gravel road and waited for the decision to be made.

Carol was the first to address Rick. "Well, what's the plan?"

"I was hoping to talk it over with everyone," he replied.

T-dog spoke next. "That's not what you said two nights ago."

"That was my next order of business," Rick said, wiping a few beads of sweat from his face. "I wanted to apologize to everyone for what I said, and what I've done. I take responsibility for what happened with Shane- I was just trying to defend myself and my family. Look at what he did at Hershel's farm, he was out of control."

"Yes, he was. Dale tried to warn us," Glenn said. Maggie leaned her head on his shoulder and Hershel shifted uncomfortably. He was obviously still getting used to the idea of the two teens sleeping in the same room.

The rest of the group gave their different signals of agreement on the subject of Shane. "Thank you," Rick said. "Now, what do you all want to do? Should we follow Sarah and Scott or try to establish some version of a home somewhere?"

"Even if we set up somewhere, we have no idea how long it's going to stay safe," Maggie said. "I don't think we can take another attack like two nights ago."

"She's right," T-dog said. "I think the best bet is to go with the others." Hershel and Beth nodded in agreement also.

"Well how can we know for sure that she even has ideas? They're a small group; they could just be using us as protection and turn on us if it comes to that," Lori said.

Carol spoke next. "I'm with Lori, I don't know if we can trust these people."

"She mentioned something about writing them down when I talked to her. And they already went out of their way to bring us here," Rick said.

"Could be just to win us over and make us feel like we owe them something," T-dog reasoned.

"Daryl, you've been unusually quiet. What do you think about all this?" Rick turned to him.

Daryl squinted though the sunlight, rather pissed off that they didn't trust what Sarah was telling them. "If you doubt her, ask to see her notes. I've already told them I'm going with them, whether ya'll decide to or not." The rest of the group looked shocked for some reason. "What the hell are your problems? Here's people that took time to help us and they could help us even more. With everyone here lookin' for the silver lining all the goddamn time, I can't believe ya'll didn't sign up the first chance ya got."

"We'll ask to see the notes, just to be sure," Rick said. "But I think we're all in agreement that it's the best route to go if everything checks out." The others nodded, while Carol made eye contact with Daryl. She gave him a look, bordering on disappointment about the fact that he was so close to leaving them behind. He decided it didn't bother him much. For the first time in his life, he really had something to work for.

An hour or so later, Sarah showed them a rough sketch of the brain with arrows and large words that Daryl didn't know the meanings of. After that, there were pages and pages of writing in a small, delicate font. The document was unlike anything that Daryl had ever seen; he was convinced that she was a genius.

"You can read my whole theory if you want," she shrugged. "I was pretty thorough, my professors from when I was in med school would have been proud."

Rick scratched his head, unable to comprehend her brilliant work. "I think we'll take your word for it," he said.

She smiled. "I haven't explained it to anyone yet. There are many complex chemicals and organic compounds involved…Scott, Rosalyn, and Marco lack the patience for an explanation, so don't feel bad."

Daryl thought that if he could ever get her alone again, like last night, he would ask her to read every word of her theory to him in her northern accent.

"Well, looks like we're all coming with you then," Rick said.

Scott shook his hand. "Then welcome. It's a little less than five hours drive to Savannah from here if I remember correctly. We could probably make it before sunset."

Carol spoke up. "Dublin is about two hours from here…We could cut the trip in half and stay at my cousins' old house. I'd like to stop and see if any of them are still around. If it's overrun we'd always just move on."

Scott replied, "I don't see any problem with that."

"But…" Marco started. He was silenced by Sarah when she gave him a dirty look.  
"It's settled then. We'll drive to Dublin tonight and make it to Savannah tomorrow!" Rick said.

They loaded up the gear within the hour. Daryl helped Lori carry things to a car; since she got pregnant, everyone in the group was getting used to babying her.

He caught Sarah in the corner of his eye with Rosalyn, adding their gatherings from the pharmacy to her basket of medical supplies. He stood by his motorcycle and slung his crossbow around his shoulder.

Sarah walked up to him a few minutes later. "I've always liked motorcycles. My parents never let me get on one while I was a teenager of course," she laughed. "I guess after that I just never got around to learning how to drive one."

"Well, if you decide want a lesson I'm sure I can fit you into my busy schedule somewhere."

She smiled. "I might take you up on that."

"You could ride on the back to Dublin if you wanted," he suggested.

"Could I?" The look that spread across her small features could be described as nothing less than exuberant. "I'll ask Marco! We were supposed to take the same car, but I'm sure he won't mind driving a couple hours on his own."

_'This can't end well,' _Daryl thought as she went back to Marco to ask.

Sarah came back a few minutes later, looking no less exuberant. "He didn't mind?" Daryl asked, somewhat suspicious.

"He doesn't like driving long distances, but I told him to get over it," she said.

Rick called out, "Everyone ready?" We're heading out!"

Daryl climbed on the bike and offered Sarah a hand to help her on; though his stomach was in knots in anticipation, he remained a cool exterior. He turned the motorcycle on and revved the engine a few times for impressive measure. He wanted Marco to hear from the Honda with the windows rolled down.

"I must admit, I'm a bit nervous about this whole thing."

"What are ya'll complaining about now? You have the easy job, just hold on."

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail before the line of cars began moving, and then wrapped her arms around his waist very tightly.

"Jesus, you know I have to breathe right? What are ya trying to do, cut off my circulation?"

She laughed and loosened her grip. "Sorry!"

Daryl drove pretty slowly at first, not straying his spot in the line. He felt her arms begin to relax more and could tell she was getting used to it. The roar of the bike was all they could hear and the wind blew through their hair in a hopelessly-romantic-movie sort of way. She leaned in so her head was on his shoulder and he felt her good-sized breasts press against his back, in the same manner that her slim thighs pressed against his legs. His impure thoughts from the night before came rushing back and his imagination took over.  
He picked up speed and started passing the other cars until they were going over 70. She was yelling "Slow down!" in his ear.

"Okay, okay," he complied, bringing the bike down to 60. Daryl rather wished Merle was there to see such an attractive woman on his prized possession, her blonde hair streaming behind them in one smooth streak.

They reached Dublin and Daryl fell back into the line again so he would know where to go. The exit ramp led them to a main road with a few zombies in sight, but they didn't bother to stop and eliminate the threat. Carol had said that her cousins' farm was in the middle of nowhere.

The group pulled onto a dirt driveway. A small house was at the end, painted robin's egg blue. There was a barn in the background and he could see the small parcel of acreage that Carol had described. No zombies around, from what Daryl could see.

A few people came out of the house with guns when they heard the cars (and motorcycle) pull into the drive. They must have been Carol's relatives, because she jumped out of the first car and ran across the yard to meet them.

Daryl parked the bike and helped Sarah get off first before he followed. "Well, how was it? Everything you dreamed of and more?"

"It was absolutely amazing," she grinned. "Thank you so much!"

"Don't mention it…" sometimes he didn't know how to react to her sweetness. He wasn't used to people who were just plain nice; it made him constantly suspicious that she was just acting fake.

Meanwhile, the happy reunion of Carol and her cousins had taken place. They asked where Ed and Sophia were, and she sadly told them of their plights. Her family was happy to offer the group a place to stay for the night and informed them that they hadn't seen many walkers yet.

Of course, there wasn't enough room in the house. Carol, Hershel, and Beth would sleep inside, but the rest of the group went to work setting up their tents. For one reason or another, Daryl ended up putting his tent close to the place where Sarah worked to set hers up.

The short woman seemed to struggle with the tent. He figured that her life in New York City didn't offer her much camping experience. "Want some help?" Daryl asked.

"I've got it bro, don't worry about it," Marco said, coming out of nowhere.

_'Bro? Are you fucking serious?' _Daryl shook his head and went to the fire that Glenn built and was sitting alone by.

"So, Sarah decided to ride your bike, huh?" the Korean kid said.

"Yeah."

"Saw her go in your room last night," he lifted his eyebrows suggestively. "You do seem a little less moody than usual."

"Nothing happened…" Daryl said, giving him a look that meant "drop it".

He didn't. "Bummer," Glenn said. "Well hey, if you ever need some protection, let me know."

Daryl stood and walked away without another word.

**First of all, I was excited to see that this story has reached over 1000 hits, woohoo! Let's make it 2000 ;) Haha anyways, if you want to know when to expect updates, my plan is to release a new chapter every day Monday-Friday and then I'm going to use Saturday and Sunday as brainstorming and working ahead. Hope you all are enjoying the story! Pleaseee keep reviewing, it keeps me going haha.**


	9. The Switch

***warning: there's some sexual content in this chapter, hence the 'M' rating on this series. So if that sort of thing offends you just beware!**

**The Switch**

_Sarah_

The blonde's legs still felt wobbly from the motorcycle as she laid out her sleeping bag in the tent Marco set up for her. It was kind of nice- since there had been so few in her group to begin with and they came across so many supplies, each of them got their own tent.

The entire motorcycle experience felt surreal. It was terrifying to be so vulnerable, but exhilarating at the same time.

"How was it?" Marco asked her as he crawled into her tent and sat down beside her.

She knew he wanted her to lie, to tell him that she hated it and would never get on another motorcycle (especially not with Daryl). But she was so excited; she couldn't stop gushing about it. "It was amazing, Marco. The wind, the rumble of the engine, the _speed_. Everything comes at you so much faster."

"That's a good thing?" he asked and shook his head. "Whatever, just be safe." He rested a hand on her shoulder for a moment before exiting her tent. She was thankful that he hadn't argued with her for once.

Sarah wandered out and went into the blue house to see what everyone was up to. Carol and one of her cousins, introduced as May, were busy making a rabbit stew. She offered to help and they gave her the job of chopping vegetables. It wasn't until she was fearlessly chopping away at the carrots and celery that she realized how much she missed cooking. Her parents had hired a chef to come and teach her the art once a week when she was a teenager. Fifteen years later, her knife cuts were still as precise.

"Impressive, Sarah," Carol said, raising an eyebrow. "You like to cook?"

"I love it," she said.

The stew took a while to cook. While they were inside, the women chatted and were soon joined by Lori, Maggie, and Beth. Sarah knew better than to think Rosalyn would come to the house. Rose would stay away from any traditional woman's duty. To add to the growing list of ideologies that Rose represented, she had adopted feminism around age twelve.

They helped clean and whatnot, but mostly chatted. The ordinariness of what they were doing overwhelmed her. Sarah forgot how nice it was just to sit around and talk to people. She had always been outgoing, and loved to hear people's stories. Maggie told them all updates about her relationship with Glenn and Lori shared the progress of her pregnancy.

Then the subject was placed on Sarah, something she wasn't always comfortable with. "So we all want to know," Lori said, "what's going on with you and Daryl? You've been spending quite a bit of time together…and he seemed hell-bent on coming with you even if we didn't."

Sarah shrugged rather nervously, not wanting to give anyone the wrong ideas, like she had apparently given Rose and Marco. "Nothing's happened, I mean we've just talked and he took me on his motorcycle. That's all…"

"Well is Marco single?" Beth asked, her eyes wide.

"He's definitely single," Sarah said, laughing. "All yours."

"Beth! He's way too old for you!" Maggie said with a disgusted look on her face.

The stew was finished and group of women rationed it into red disposable plastic bowls. Sarah made sure to grab a glass one from the kitchen for Rose's salad so that she wouldn't begin a lecture on the fact that disposable plastic items take way too long to decompose.

They sat around the fire outside and ate together. Sarah was sitting across the fire from Daryl and they kept catching each other's eyes, smiling occasionally. It made her feel like she was back in high school again with the butterflies and lying to everyone else about liking the person.

She was spacing out a bit too much to listen to the majority of the conversations. It was a habit she had always failed to break; her mind wandered much too often. Her attention was caught again when Daryl mentioned something about going on a hunt later that night. Then she started letting her mind wander again, thinking about Daryl and his manly crossbow.

'_You're acting ridiculous, get a grip…'_ she told herself.

It was a while before the flames died down and some people decided to get some sleep. She left when about half the group remained around the fire; she would have stayed longer but was tired from staying up so long the night before.

Sarah crawled under the sleeping bag's covers, still feeling fortunate that the plane went down in a place that was so warm and comfortable to her. Everyone kept complaining about how muggy it was all the time. But the humidity didn't bother her- anything was better than the cold to the north.

She fell asleep almost right away, but woke up again when the zipper to her tent started moving. Sarah was about to scream for help, worried that it was a walker, when she heard a familiar voice.

"You awake?"

It was Daryl. She quickly went to the door of the tent and unzipped it. "Hey," she said, rubbing her eyes. The giddy feeling in her stomach began once more.

"Sorry I woke ya. I thought you'd be up still. I'm headed out to the forest to do a little hunting. The moon's full so there it's perfect conditions. Judging from the way you threw that pill bottle as your only defense at the pharmacy, I figured a little hunt would do you some good. Ya'll need to learn a few survival skills."

"You're never going to let me live that one down," she whispered, raising a corner of her mouth into a half-smile. "But yes, I'll come with. Should I bring anything?"

"From what I've heard…and seen…ya don't know how to shoot, so no. I've got it covered."

She stepped out of the tent and into the night air. "Then, I guess I'm ready!"

They walked past the deadened fire and through the clearing that led to the forest. "If we're gonna get anything on this hunt, ya'll are gonna have to keep quiet. No talking. And try to watch your step. Tripping over shit gives us away to the walkers as much as it does to the animals."

"Got it," she whispered, kind of worried about the conditions he had put forth. She was terrible at being quiet in nerve-racking situations; they usually just made her talk more. Not to mention the fact that she was perpetually clumsy and would undoubtedly make some sort of noise. But she told herself that she would really make an effort not to do these things. After all, she didn't want Daryl to regret taking her on the hunt.

He loaded an arrow into his crossbow. "Here we go."

They stepped into the forest on a soft padding of pine needles. It cushioned their steps so that their movements were barely audible. Sarah watched in awe as Daryl began tracking his way to the forest. The full moon shone brightly; her eyes adjusted quickly and she could see pretty much everything that was going on.

An owl hooted in a tree. They stepped around ferns and other plants. She watched Daryl carefully and took his exact steps, figuring that he probably knew which plants were poisonous. His knowledge was inexplicably sexy to her, unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

They walked and walked. He would change direction, in a seemingly random way to Sarah. She didn't pick up on the cues the forest had left him, leading him to his prey. The tree cover above them became thicker the further they ventured, so some of the moonlight was blocked out.

Suddenly, they heard a branch break somewhere to the northwest of where they stood. She jumped and he grabbed her arm; a reminder to keep quiet. He pulled her behind a tree and whispered "Just stay here, I'll take care of it."

Sarah really wanted to say: "Please don't leave me here by myself," but she knew it wasn't her place to argue. He definitely knew more in terms of what he was doing in this situation than she did.

She waited and listened as carefully as she could, but heard nothing. Her heart raced violently in her chest, pounding so loudly she thought it might give her away to whatever had made the branch-breaking noise. It had been a couple minutes since Daryl had left her there, though the minutes felt like hours because of her anxiety.

Sarah decided she should lean around the tree and check to see what was going on. She did, and could see nothing through the thick darkness created by the overlapping treetops. Sarah felt the overwhelming need to know if Daryl was okay. She stepped away from the tree and couldn't even take one full step in the direction he went before someone (or something), pushed her back against the tree.

She gasped; her immediate reaction was that it was a walker. Sarah wanted to scream in surprise and fear, but they had covered her mouth with a hand. She tried to struggle and hit them repeatedly, throwing in a kick here and there. Their body stayed pressed against hers, pushing her into the tree she had just tried to step away from.

"I thought I told you to wait by the tree," was what she finally heard less than an inch from her ear. She dropped her arms immediately, recognizing the voice.

He didn't back away after she stopped struggling. Only his hand moved and a split second later, she felt his lips on hers. She was taken aback at first, but it definitely didn't take her long to start kissing him back.

Sarah felt his hands graze her arms and then tangle themselves in her hair. She liked the way his stubble tickled her face, and then her neck when he bent down even further to kiss her there.

"You scared the shit out of me," she said.

"To teach ya'll a damn lesson. Well, that's at least one reason," Daryl said. She could hear his smirk in his voice.

He picked her up so they were at the same height level and she wrapped her legs around his waist, still pressed up against the tree. They kissed again, and this time she snuck her tongue into his mouth, exploring.

Something was bothering her again, and she broke the kiss. "You got whatever made that sound, right?"

"Just a fox. I'll grab the arrow later."

She could tell that he didn't want to keep talking by both his shortened responses and the hardening bulge in his pants. For the third time he kissed her, this time pressing her against the tree with his body even harder than before. The fact that he was a little rough turned her on. Usually the men she was with were overly careful, treating her like a glass figurine. Daryl definitely didn't have that annoying tendency.

His hands slipped under her shirt to fondle her breasts, pointy from the chilly midnight air. She let out a little moan, which seemed to fuel him even more. He pressed his hips against hers, and she could feel how hard he was through his jeans. Daryl's breathing quickened and, still holding her, turned away from the tree and bent down, carefully placing her on a bed of pine needles.

Sarah found herself thinking about the fact that she always wanted to have sex outdoors, but never had the chance before. And boy, did she want it now, especially after his impressive show of his tracking ability. She sat up long enough to unbutton his shirt and pull it off him, and he followed suit by pulling her shirt and bra off too. He pushed her back down into the pine needles and played with each nipple using his tongue. Meanwhile, his hand had unzipped her jeans and was busy rubbing her clit. She moaned again, this time louder than before.

He whispered in her ear "Ya gotta try to keep the enthusiasm down a bit. Don't want the walkers coming after us."

"Sorry, I can barely control it. I thought guys liked that," she said, smiling in the dark. It had been a long time since she had been this turned on. In fact, she didn't know if she had ever been more turned on in her life.

"Oh, they do." He kissed her softly this time and stopped playing with her body for a couple of moments. Then she saw him give her an actual smile for the first time, staring into her eyes. She read the look of sexual hunger as most prominent amongst a mix of emotions.

Suddenly, though, a spark of new emotion took over in those eyes. Sarah was extremely confused, because it resembled anger. Daryl threw himself off her and put on his shirt, not bothering to rebutton it. He punched the tree, hard. "God fucking dammit." His knuckles emerged from the bark sporting a good amount of blood. He walked away for a bit and came back with his bloody arrow from the fox.

The whole time, Sarah laid there, stunned. What went wrong? What did she say or do that was wrong? She stood up and put on her bra and shirt after zipping up her pants. "Daryl…What the hell? Are you okay?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him toward her.

"Don't," he said, pulling his shoulder away from her grip. He began walking in the direction of where they were camped.

She followed him, watching his hand bleed. "What's wrong? Did I say something?"

He completely ignored her, walking at a quicker pace. With her short legs, she nearly had to jog to keep up with him.

They walked in silence for what seemed like hours. His coldness was torturing her. After they finally got to the clearing near the campsite, Sarah tried one more time. "I'm sorry for whatever I did. Just tell me what it is so I don't do it again." She took his hand. "You need to let me bandage this up for you too. "

Daryl pulled away once more without even responding. He looked into her eyes, and she saw that his were still filled with that angry look. But at what?

"Leave me the hell alone." He turned and walked away. She stood there and watched until he climbed into his tent. Then she crossed the clearing and went into her own tent. After crawling into her sleeping bag, Sarah stared up at the ceiling. She was just so confused because of how well things were going…Was it some kind of game to him? She hated when she couldn't figure people out…especially because she was really starting to like Daryl. She did everything she could think of to keep herself from crying in frustration, but the tears came in an unmerciful way. For Sarah, it was bound to be another long night of endless dwelling.

**Oh snap! A twist! Stay tuned….and please review ;)**


	10. A Few Contemplations

**A Few Contemplations**

_Daryl_

The full moon illuminated the inside of the tent. Daryl dug through his bag of supplies for an extra shirt and wrapped it around his aching hand. He hit that damn tree pretty hard; most of the bleeding had stopped, but he wanted to at least clean it up a little.

His head pounded with conflicting thoughts. One part of him hated himself for hurting her, but the other part hated her. Or at least he thought he did.

Daryl groaned and rolled over in his sleeping bag, hearing Sarah open and close the tent she was staying in. He was too stressed out to even consider sleeping; the only thing that ever cleared his mind was the forest because it required so much attentiveness. With hope of bringing peace to himself, he ventured outside once more with his crossbow. He reasoned that Rick would expect some game in the morning anyways, and Daryl never failed to deliver.

Daryl picked up on the trail of what he believed was a deer soon after entering the forest. He wove through the trees, ears tuned into every deviation from silence. Tonight, there was something off with his instincts though; whenever he thought he was on the right track, he'd run out of clues and have to make an educated guess in order to continue tracking.

If he couldn't even concentrate on the hunt, what did he have? He cursed and sat down against a tree, putting his head in his hands. The conflicting thoughts came back in a tidal wave.

Daryl couldn't shake the fact that if the epidemic had never occurred, she wouldn't have even considered sleeping with him. They were two completely different people, too different to ever be attracted to each other. He thought of who she must have been before everything happened.

She would leave early for work every day to stop by Starbucks and grab some low-fat coffee shit, and then head to her practice in the Empire State Building. Daryl wasn't even sure if the Empire State rented to health practitioners, but figured that it was the sort of ritzy place Sarah would work in if possible. She would enter her office without saying hello to her new secretary; she wouldn't even know her first name for at least two months after her hiring date.

She would press the play button on the answering machine to hear whatever she had missed over the weekend. At least the messages that hadn't been sent straight to her Blackberry. She'd sigh and roll her eyes at the guy she went on a date with last week who kept calling for another. She would give most men her work number so that her cell phone wasn't cluttered with unheard messages.

After she was done seeing patients, she would head home to her penthouse apartment with a spectacular view. Most nights she slept in the king-sized bed alone, unless she was coming home from a night of clubbing, each time with a new man in tow. She would get dressed up in a short, tight red designer dress.

Sarah once found other people to be a nuisance, unless of course they were doing her a favor. She wouldn't settle for anything less than the richest, most attractive bachelor in New York City. Her daddy wouldn't approve otherwise.

Daryl was someone she'd laugh about or blatantly ignore. Even if he had the nerve to ask her on a date, she wouldn't have taken more than a second to consider it before laughing in his face and turning down the offer, not bothering with courtesy.

The only reason she was different after the apocalypse was because she lost everything that was ever important to her. Money would be worthless, and her family gone. All she had left was Rose and Marco, so obviously she was trying to replace the voids in her life with something. Daryl was convinced she was using him as a thrill and distraction, nothing more.

He took off his crossbow and set it beside him on the leaves. The two sides of his mind were still at war, and he felt his anger turn internally. He was angry at himself for judging her, thinking that she was just a fake bitch…he didn't really know her at all. Daryl just felt like a hypocrite then; he was pissed at her because she probably would have only seen him as a redneck before. But then there he was, stereotyping her as a snob and fabricating her entire life.

Daryl didn't know quite what to do…he decided that it wasn't her fault that he was upset, only his. She hadn't given him a reason to think any of those things, besides the fact that she made mention of coming from money.

He felt a bit calmer and started thinking about the things he actually did know about her. He knew that she was weak and helpless. Her lack of survival instincts was both amusing and endearing; it made Daryl want to protect her and teach her everything he knew. He liked the fact that she was into bikes…and pretty into him as well, if the events of earlier were any indication.

Daryl thought of her smooth, pale skin and her fit body. He wished he was still massaging her large breasts or squeezing her tight ass. After thinking it all through, he wanted to kick himself. He could have slept with her, but ended up just freaking her the fuck out instead.

He sighed. There was no way he could screw her now, he'd just get too attached. When he was on top of her and staring into her pretty blue eyes, all he wanted was to stay in the forest with her forever. It was a dangerous thought- there was too much that could go wrong if he let his emotions run wild. He wouldn't be able to focus on his own survival as well; he'd have to put her first always like Rick did for Lori and Carl. It was better to let her own people protect her, like they'd done all along. Another thing that stopped him was the fact that life had become too unpredictable. If he let himself fall for her, he'd lose her just like the group lost Sophia, Dale, Merle, and so many others. It would be only a matter of time until the zombies got her too.

With those things in mind, he decided that keeping his distance would be for the best. He didn't want to hurt her or get hurt himself, it just wasn't worth it. He wouldn't let himself apologize for that night, as it could lead her on too much. The more distance the better.

Finally, Daryl's mind was clear. He stood, feeling much better that he finally decided on something. Walking through the forest once more, he picked up on a good trail that led him to a tiny pond in the middle of the forest. He hid behind a tree and watched a sizable buck lower its neck to drink. When its nose brushed the water, Daryl launched the arrow that pierced straight through the jugular.

"Oh hell yeah," he smiled, happy to seemingly regain himself. He was determined then; no more losing himself in Sarah's charm.

He dragged out the arrow and wiped it off on his pants. After storing it away, he heaved the beast over his shoulder and started back to camp.

After three hours of sleep, the sun shone brightly through Daryl's tent. He would have stayed in bed a bit later, but he was eager to show everyone his prize from the night before. It would be good eating, for a while at least. To Daryl, it meant no more pop-tarts and fruit for breakfast.

"That's a pretty remarkable piece of game Daryl," Rick commented when he came outside and saw the buck near the fire. Daryl was busy chopping it up into chunks of meat that they could use for cooking.

"Ew! Why are you doing this in the middle of camp!" Rosalyn had also exited her tent. "I was wondering what that putrid odor was!"  
"Go inside if ya don't like it," Daryl said with a glare. "Didn't ask ya'll to sit out here and help."

"That's appalling," she backed away from Daryl by a few steps after he pulled out the intestines and placed them on the ground beside him. Rosalyn gave him one last look of disgust before walking toward the blue house.  
"Don't let it get to you," Rick said.

"Like anything that crazy bitch says would get to me," Daryl scoffed. "Damned social activists."

Rick didn't say anything in response, but helped Daryl carry the meat into the house after he was done cutting it up. "We'll probably leave for Savannah after lunch," Rick said.

Carol walked downstairs and into the kitchen while Daryl was washing off his bloody hands. He looked out the window and saw Lori and Carl playing a card game on the front porch. A familiar streak of blonde caught his eye in the camp, and he watched Sarah as she exited her tent. She saw the deer by the pit and looked around, probably for Daryl. Then Marco went to her and they headed in the direction of the backyard well.

"You alright Daryl?" Carol asked him, probably because of the fact that he had just been standing still with his hands in the stream of water.

"Just fine," he said gruffly.

She looked happier than he had ever seen her, likely because she was back with her family.

"Rick, I've been thinking. I don't want to go with ya'll to Savannah. I just want to stay here with my family now, they're all I have left and things seem pretty safe here. I'm sorry…but it's what's best for me."

He nodded understanding. "No one's going to blame you for wanting to be with your family, Carol. You've been through a lot. Do you want to tell the group or should I?"

Daryl could barely believe that they had just lost another member of the group; they were really getting weaker and weaker every day.

He decided to stay in the house for breakfast when he saw that Sarah was sitting by the tents with Marco and Rose. He made himself look away when she sadly looked at the ground and traced pictures in the dirt with a stick. He felt bad about hurting her, but knew he couldn't talk to her anymore without giving the wrong impression or putting himself at risk for falling for her.

Daryl enjoyed the venison that morning; protein was always a nice eye-opener, he had never needed coffee. Carol stayed inside with him even though her family and everyone else ventured outside. "Ya'll are sure about staying?" he asked. Though he wasn't romantically inclined toward Carol, he thought of her as a sister or at least a good friend; one of the few people that had seen his softer side.

"I'm sure…I mean they're family. Ya'll have become family for me too, but it can't replace actual kin. Plus I'm just getting sick and tired of traveling."

"Yeah," Daryl ran a hand through his hair.

"I'll be thinking of everyone though…and I hope you find what you're looking for," Carol said, placing a hand on his forearm. Her eyes were serene and he could tell that she had reached a level of peace with her life that she hadn't in a long time. "You're acting strange today. What happened?"

He told her that it wasn't a big deal and that she shouldn't worry for him. After they finished breakfast, the two of them ventured outside to the others. Daryl avoided eye contact with Sarah as much as he possibly could, focusing his vision somewhere in the distance. Even so, he felt her eyes on him. Rick announced to the group that Carol would be staying behind, and they began taking down the tents and packing up for the next three hours on the road.

Hershel spoke up. "Beth, Maggie, and I talked last night. I think Beth and I are going to be staying with Carol's family too; they said it was alright. We're just not up for the journey and we want to stay close to home still."

Maggie began crying and Glenn held her. Heartfelt goodbyes were given all around. Daryl shook Hershel's hand, thanking him again for fixing the hole in his side that the arrow had made.

Carol hugged everyone goodbye before they left for Savannah. "Take care of yourself, Daryl," she told him.

"You too," he said, still regretting the fact that they didn't find Sophia in time.

Finally, they were on the road again. Daryl found that the motorcycle didn't give him the same thrill as usual that day. Maybe having a pretty girl on the back changed things and he'd never get the same enjoyment out of it again. Dismissing the thought, he sped up the bike and passed the other cars. It was nice to be on the open road; one positive outcome of the outbreak was the fact that Daryl didn't have to be as cautious on his bike anymore. It wasn't as though there would be anyone else driving that would crash into him.

Daryl had only been in one motorcycle accident, when he was sixteen. He had just bought his first Yamaha street bike from what he earned working at a local farm for the summer. He could remember coming up to the intersection. He didn't have a stop sign, but the street it intersected with did. Someone from his right blew through the stop sign right in front of him. Daryl remembered his quick reflexes swerving right to avoid them, and was so close to safety, but he had just hit the rear tire on the car. He was flung over the front of the bike and hit the stop sign with his head.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in the hospital with Merle standing over him, giving him shit about his road rash and scraped up face. "Man, fuck you," were the first words Daryl painfully managed after waking up.

His recovery was as expensive as it was excruciating; his parents had the minimal Medicaid insurance, but it didn't spare Daryl from the ass-kicking he received from his father as soon as he was able to walk again.

That didn't stop him from getting a new bike, though. He took care of it like it was his first-born kid, spending hours every weekend detailing it and making it gleam in the hot Georgia sun. It definitely made it easier for him to pick up chicks.

He glanced in his rearview mirror to see that Sarah and Marco were a few cars back. He began getting thirsty; the ride was a long one. It was still odd to pass by so many deserted towns and abandoned cars, even though the infection had been going on for so long. It was just something none of them would ever get used to.

Daryl saw the city of Savannah in the distance. He had never been there; his family wasn't one for vacations. Daryl fell back into the line so he could follow Scott's car. They didn't take the main exit to the city, but closer to the ocean before getting off the highway.

Scott's beach house looked like a scene on a postcard. Daryl had never seen anything like it in person. They parked the cars, and after scoping the area for walkers and only finding a couple that were easily eliminated, they brought some supplies into Scott's house. Daryl walked to the window in Scott's living room and saw that the beach was less than a hundred feet away from the back deck. It was pretty, but only if you looked at it in the teenage spring break sort of way. He just couldn't see the real beauty while everyone else gushed about how great it was.

Looking at the water, he realized that all he wanted was another forest.

**Hopefully that answered some few questions about last chapter. Just hang in there fellow Daryl fans, it's gonna get better :p. Thanks to those who have left reviews! **


	11. The Last Straw

**The Last Straw**

_Sarah_

Getting out of the car was the first thing on Sarah's mind when they pulled into Scott's driveway. Marco had been so annoying, asking about fifty questions about Daryl. He apparently didn't get the hint that Sarah didn't want to talk about him.

Marco got out with a few of the others to clear the few zombies on the street, careful to avoid using guns, which would only attract more. It seemed relatively safe after they eliminated the ones in sight; there weren't that many, and Rick said they'd be unlikely to see a herd.

Scott's beautiful house was at least a momentary distraction from Sarah's thoughts of Daryl. It was painted a sunny yellow with white trim. He told them that he and his wife had designed it together; she had been an interior designer. Flowering plants in pastel colors lined a nice stone path up to the front door.

"Ready for the tour?" Scott asked her. Sarah nodded and they stepped inside. It was as visually pleasing as the outside. The floors were a dark wood and it featured high ceilings. "There are six bedrooms," he said when everyone came inside. "A couple of them have bunk beds…there should be enough space for everyone."

Rick addressed the group next. "We'll probably stay here for a few days, maybe organize a trip to the city for some more supplies before we set sail. Scott says he knows Savannah pretty well."

Sarah watched as Daryl walked to the living room window and looked out toward the ocean, a thoughtful look on his face. She still didn't know what the hell his problem was, and was nearly desperate to find out. It was driving her crazy; once she started dwelling on something, she could rarely stop until her questions were answered.

Rosalyn caught up with Sarah and they went upstairs to claim a room. They found one on the end of the hall that was painted a light greenish-blue, Sarah's favorite color. Rosalyn would have preferred something a bit darker, but didn't argue.

"You either need to stop moping or tell me what the hell is wrong," Rosalyn said. Sarah had refused to tell her what was wrong earlier that day. "It's with that hick, isn't it?"

"I wish you'd stop calling him that, you're just mad that he killed a deer."  
"Well, the deer didn't do anything to him, did it? How did the deer deserve to be shot?"

"I don't know what's so hard for you to understand, Rose. Surviving means doing things you wouldn't normally do," Sarah snapped at her friend, an odd occurrence as she was usually pretty calm and patient with Rose's eccentricities.

"Fine, mope around by yourself. You let me know when you want to talk to someone," Rose said as she walked out of the bedroom and shut the door loudly behind her.

The bedroom featured two twin-sized beds, and Sarah took this opportunity to claim the one closest to the window. She laid down, feeling guilty of the way she snapped at Rose. She was just so sick of it all; so sick of her friends constantly insulting Daryl even though he hadn't done anything to them, and so sick of wondering what was wrong with him. She had fallen for him so fast and his coldness was tearing her apart. Sarah had never been one to handle rejection well, if that's even what it was considered.

She rolled over on her side to face the window. She could see Scott's dock where his "sailboat" was anchored. It was more of a medium-sized yacht. Apparently he had just been modest when describing it before. At least it would be an easier ride to Massachusetts if they were in a bigger boat.

It didn't take Sarah long before she got lonely; she hated being by herself. She walked downstairs again and saw Scott sitting outside on the back porch on some wicker furniture. "You have a really nice beach house," Sarah said. The others had started a game of volleyball, except Daryl, who laid in the sand staring up at the sky.

"Thank you. Brenda loved it more than anything," he said.

"I can see why…Do you know where she is?" Sarah asked, hoping she wouldn't upset Scott.

As always, he maintained a level head and took a beer bottle out of a cooler sitting next to him. He cracked it open, took a sip, then answered "Well she was back home in New York…so I'm not sure. I mean by the looks of Savannah and Atlanta, the cities haven't yielded many survivors. Maybe it's just the worst in the south; you can always hope." He offered her a smile, knowing Sarah's family was in New York when it all happened too.

"Yeah, I hope things are better there," she said.

He got two more beers out of the cooler and asked if she wanted one. She nodded, even though she had never been one for beer. "Why don't you go offer Daryl one, too?" he suggested, giving her a knowing look.

She took it hesitantly, not sure if she wanted to approach him and ask him about the previous night or not. Sarah sat there a few moments before she could gather the courage to get up and stride over to him. "Wanna beer?" She waved the brown bottle in front of his face as she took a sip of hers.

He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at her. "I'll pass," he said, in the same cold tone that he had employed the night before.

She sat down next to him, sick of the games. She just wanted to be an adult about the situation. "Daryl, what's wrong? I don't know what I did wrong."

"I think I was clear about the fact that I don't want to be around ya'll anymore. I just want to be left the hell alone."

"Oh sorry, I didn't get that. I guess I was too busy getting made out with and led on," she said sarcastically, giving him a dirty look.

He was quiet for a bit, and then stood up, taking the extra beer from her hand. "Thanks for the booze," he said before walking away.

'_Fine, forget it_,' she thought, seething with frustration. _'I'm done, you win.'_

She looked at Scott, who gave her a puzzled look as Daryl walked past him and into the house. Sarah went back to the porch and sat down again.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Sarah sighed. "Don't ask me. I couldn't tell you if I tried."

"I thought you two were getting to be close friends, or even more…" Scott said, pushing the subject further.

"Well I thought so too, but I guess not." Sarah looked down at the wooden floorboards of the porch. When she looked back up, she changed the subject. "So what condition is the boat in? Do we need to do anything to fix it up before we leave?"

"It's perfectly functional…maybe a little dusty inside."

"Where can I get some cleaning supplies?" she asked, looking for any sort of distraction from the situation with Daryl.

"I'll go get them!" Scott said. He went inside for a couple moments and then emerged once more holding a bucket with gloves, Pledge, a few rags, and other assorted cleaning supplies. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem, it's not like I have anything better to do," she said, taking the bucket of supplies from his hand and walking toward the boat.

She saw a spider within the first five minutes she was cleaning it, and knew it would be nearly impossible to get the job done. Sarah was probably more afraid of spiders than zombies. It was something about their legs, or maybe just the way they moved in general. Daddy long-legs weren't even real spiders, but they bothered her all the same.

Sarah opened the door to the cabin of the boat. It resembled her parents' boat that they kept in a New York marina, only taking it out once or twice a year. She began dusting everything in sight, realizing she'd done more cleaning since the outbreak began than she'd done in her entire life.

"Die! Die! Die!" she exclaimed when one of the revolting creatures crawled near her foot. She stomped around like a crazy person.

"Calm down there," Rosalyn said, appearing at the doorway. "Need some help?"

Sarah nodded. "You could kill the spiders for me."

"I'd be glad to," her friend smiled. She picked up a rag and started helping Sarah dust everything off.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I just got tired of you and Marco saying shit about Daryl even though you didn't even know him. But I found out that he's a jerk today, so I guess you can say whatever you want to me now."

"I know we've been harsh…it's just hard for Marco and I to even imagine you being with someone else. You've had other boyfriends, sure…but it seems like they've just filled in until you and Marco get back together. You seem different with Daryl."

"Well, I was starting to fall for him."

"It's that motorcycle," Rose laughed. "You and your biker men…ridiculous. What would your dad say?"

"He wouldn't be happy, that's for sure," Sarah laughed. Then her face fell. "It doesn't matter, whatever was going on between Daryl and I is over now."

"Just tell me what happened…You're being so vague," she whined.

"Last night, Daryl asked me to go hunting with him. Or, watch him hunt, rather. We ended up making out in the forest…we almost had sex. Right before we were about to, he just got up, punched a damn tree, and went back to camp. He refused to talk to me, like I'm the one who did something wrong."

Rosalyn thought for a moment. "Well I don't think it was anything sexual…I mean Marco thought you were good in bed, which is an impressive feat." She was referring to the fact that Marco had had sex to many women, but still considered Sarah his best.

"Yeah, I'm just clueless. Whatever I mean I give up I guess."

"You and him aren't meant to be together…he's just too different from us. I'm not trying to be a snob because I know you really liked him, but it's true."

"I guess you're right," Sarah sighed.

They continued to clean for a long while, until every surface was shiny and new-looking and most of the spiders were eliminated. "Much better," Sarah said, smiling at their job well done. She couldn't wait to show Scott.

When Rosalyn and Sarah came back in from the boat, Scott was busy grilling dinner. He had gone down to his freezer in the basement of the beach house and found some frozen chicken. Sarah found some apricot preserves and made a little sauce out of them to glaze the chicken with after it was done cooking. She was happy to be stranded with someone like Scott, who enjoyed the art of cooking as much as she did.

Everyone sat down to eat his huge dining room table. The house made Sarah feel a little more at home again; Scott was clearly well-to-do. Money wasn't all that mattered to her, she just grew up around expensive things, so being in such an environment again gave her the comforts of home.

"Too bad we didn't find you sooner," Glenn started after taking a bite of his chicken, "no one knew how to cook before."

"Wow, thanks." Maggie glared at him and he sat a little lower in his chair.

"No offence taken here," Lori said. "This is great. Still cooked over a fire, but at least it has flavor."

"It's very tasty, thank you!" Carl smiled. Rick and Lori seriously had the cutest kid in the world.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah looked at Daryl. She tried to stop herself, but couldn't. He had already finished his chicken and was sitting in silence.

"I'm glad everyone liked it," Scott beamed at them all and stood to take care of their plates.

"So we were talking, and I think a few of us are going to be making a trip to Savannah tomorrow for supplies," Rick said. After a worried look from Lori, he said "I was thinking T-dog and I would stay here and make sure everything stays safe, and if they're up for it, Daryl, Glenn, Marco, and Scott would go into the city. What do you say guys?"

"Well you know I'm fine with it," Scott said, smiling in his fatherly way.

"I'm in," Marco said. "I kinda miss bein' in the city."

Maggie told Glenn that there was no way he was going into the city, but he argued "We're going to need more than three people if we plan to split up. I'll go Scott."

Daryl nodded that he would go too. Sarah was kind of glad that she wouldn't have to worry about seeing him at camp the next day, but knew she'd just end up worrying about him when he left. She barely thought of Marco, but hoped he ended up okay too, of course.

"Alright, we'll leave when the sun's out," Scott said. "Hopefully it's not too cloudy and dark, the walkers seem much more active whenever that happens."

"Yeah, we've had some experiences in the city with the rain…and the dark," Glenn said. "Let's just try not to get stuck on top of a department store this time."

After they cleaned up from dinner, Sarah went to the room Marco was staying in. She knocked on the door softly, and heard his familiar voice say "Come on in."

He was sitting on his bed, sharpening his knife. "My favorite girl," he smiled. It was the usual greeting she got whenever he saw her, but even so, she hadn't heard it in a while. "What's going on?"

"Just cleaned up," she said, watching him sharpen the knife and sitting down on the bed next to him. "You're going to be careful tomorrow right?"

"Not careful, _smart_. It's not that hard to get out of a jam, especially when these things are dumber than dirt. It's nothing like the mob was…now that was some scary shit. Had some pretty close calls, but you just gotta learn to use your brain."

She rested her head on his shoulder. He felt more like an older brother now than an ex-boyfriend. "Then be smart, whatever. Just come back is what I'm trying to say."

He stopped sharpening his knife. "Rose told me what happened between you and that redneck. Look, if you really like him, it's whatever. You know I'll get over it and I really do want you to be happy. We've had our time and I accept it. But I still care about you and if he's going around hurting you for no apparent reason, he and I are going to have a problem."

"Well too late, he already hurt me once; it's not like I'm letting it happen again," Sarah said.

"I'm sorry." Marco hugged her and kissed the top of her head, though not in a romantic way. She was so relieved that he was finally accepting the fact that they were just friends. It had only taken over a year since their last break-up, after all. "Well if you decide you want me to kick his ass or push him off the top of a building, you just say the word."


	12. Reunited

**Reunited**

_Daryl_

Daryl got up early that morning to prepare for his trip to Savannah. He stocked his crossbow with all his arrows and tucked a gun into the waistband of his jeans, also putting a knife in his pocket for good measure. Daryl was kind of excited to get into the city; he was in an adventurous mood. It made him feel like he made the right choice about letting Sarah go before she got too close to him. If he had let his feelings go crazy like they had threatened to before, he might not have even volunteered to go. He would have wanted to stay around and look after her, the same way Rick stayed for Lori.

But now nothing was holding him back. He was going to go into the city, kill a shit-ton of walkers, and come back with a good amount of supplies. Unfortunately, he'd be going with Marco, and he had a feeling that that aspect of the trip wasn't going to go over very well. He wasn't nervous about what Marco would do to him; Daryl was nervous that _he_ would snap and give them away or act too rashly. It was a bad habit of his, inherited from his father and Merle without a doubt.

He walked downstairs and sat down on the living room couch, waiting for the others to come down. When he looked out the front window he saw Sarah in the ocean. Her light hair streamed behind her in the morning breeze and she was wading knee deep in the ocean with her jeans rolled up. She looked peaceful and Daryl felt his body ache for her, but pushed the thoughts from his head.

He had been downstairs waiting for at least ten minutes before the other three men started walking down. "Come on, wasting daylight here!" Daryl said in an urgent voice, standing and motioning to the front door. "Let's go!"

"Chill, Daryl," Glenn said, still rubbing his eyes. "I don't know why you're so excited to step into a swarm of walkers anyways…"

They split up and got in the cars; Daryl with Glenn and Scott with Marco. The highway was the shortest route into town, so they went that way, using a set of walkie-talkies to communicate between them. They took the exit toward downtown Savannah, stopping the cars close to the once-active shipping ports and harbor. Daryl loaded up the crossbow before he got out of the car, and rested it against his shoulder so that he would be ready to shoot at any time.

The ancient port was made of old gray stones. Former tourist stores lined it, and it was obvious that they wouldn't find anything of real value to scavenge until they were further into town. They walked up the stairs that led from the port to the main street, which was crawling with walkers. The four of them dove behind an abandoned bus to develop a plan.

"You two, run to the hotel alley. Glenn and I will run to alley next to the pub. Scavenge whatever you can on the way…You'll need to head west after reaching the alley to get to a big supermarket," Scott ordered.

_'Damnit_,' thought Daryl. He'd been partnered up with Marco. He didn't have time to argue, however, because as soon as Scott finished talking, they were on the run. While he sprinted across the street toward fenced alley, Daryl shot a few walkers with his arrows. He was running so fast that he could pull the arrows out with a violent yank as he ran by, before the walkers even hit the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marco hitting the walkers that were in his way with an axe.

Daryl reached the open fence first and slipped inside, with Marco soon behind him. They had drawn quite a bit of attention on the way over. Daryl latched the gate just in time, before the walkers reached them. They kept walking and quickly cleared the alley, an easy feat with Daryl's crossbow and deadly accurate aim.

"How long have you been using that thing?" Marco asked, gesturing to Daryl's favorite weapon.

"Age five," he said, proud of his self-taught skills. Daryl had been bringing home dinner for a long time, an achievement that spared him from several beatings from his father.

"Damn. Picked up my first gun at thirteen. Dad couldn't wait to teach me the trade, if you know what I mean."

Daryl didn't respond. The post-infection group was the closest thing to a gang that he'd ever experienced; Daryl had always been too independent to involve himself with other people during his more youthful years. In fact, the only reason he wasn't on his own now was the basic principle of survival. Merle had been the one who wanted to join the others in the first place.

They ventured through the maze of backstreets, without many walkers in sight. "Ya know, they used to call Savannah one of the most haunted cities in America..." Marco said. "I guess the trick is finding the least haunted now." He was quiet for a moment and then added, "I think the store's down here." He gestured to a large brick building across the street of the alley they were walking down. They ran inside before anything else could spot them.

"This mission is going surprisingly well…almost too well," Marco said after they got inside. Food was scattered across the floor. Most of it was rotting, but they were able to gather quite a bit.

Daryl was grabbing boxes of rice from a shelf when Marco spoke again. "So, this is probably the time to bring it up because I don't want to cause a scene back at Scott's. I don't know what the deal is between you and Sarah right now, but she's pretty upset. She and I have been close for a real long time…so if you're not going to be a gentleman, who is what she deserves, you and I are going to have a few problems."

"Terrifying…ya'll think I'm threatened? What are ya gonna do, sic the gang on me?" Daryl said, feeling his temper begin to escalate. "I don't know why no one can mind their own damn business anyhow. I don't go prying in other people's lives, why do ya'll pry into mine?"

"You think I need my gang behind me? I'll kick your hick ass, right here and now," Marco said. He threw down the groceries he had gathered and rolled up his sleeves before cockily adding, "Been waiting to since day one."

"Yeah? Tell ya what, ya'll can even have the first punch." Daryl threw down his groceries as well and took off the crossbow, walking briskly toward Marco.

As Daryl predicted, Marco did try to take the first punch, which Daryl quickly dodged by a swift twist of his upper torso. If he knew how to do one thing, it was fight. As soon as was old and strong enough, he had fought back whenever Merle started a brotherly spar.

Daryl came back and clocked him in the eye with his right hand and in the gut with his left hand. Marco coughed in surprised, but sprung up and returned the punches. Daryl's adrenaline was still going strong though. That was the thing about fighting; while you're in one, you can't feel the punches, even with your body screaming at you, telling you that you're hurt. Then the exhaustion would come; it didn't matter if you won or lost, you felt exhausted all the same.

"Fucking redneck!"  
"Prissy asshole bitch!"

Then a new voice appeared. "Damn Daryl, it's the end of the world and ya'll are still finding people to fight? Ain't you ever gonna get tired boy?"

Daryl spun around, as the voice had come from behind him. He couldn't believe what he saw.

"What the hell, you know him?" Marco asked as his punches ceased.

"Merle," was all Daryl could manage in disbelief. If Marco hadn't acknowledged his presence, Daryl would have thought that he was hallucinating again.

"That's all ya gotta say, after letting those assholes chain me to the damn roof in Atlanta?"

"We went back…we saw the hand…" Daryl said, looking at Merle's stump of an arm. "I knew ya'll were a tough enough bastard to get out, but didn't know how long ya would last out here like that."

"Well, brother, I drove right to Savannah. Been staying in the outskirts. Looks like ya'll are with some other group now…I don't recognize this fool."  
"Not really. We joined some others, mostly the same though."

"Hold on, lemme get this straight," Marco started. "This is your brother?" He sounded a little nervous, probably regretting the fact that he'd started a fight now. His lip was swelling and his eye turning purple.

"That cop still around? What about the nigger?" Merle asked.

"Both are," Daryl answered, ignoring Marco.

"Looks like I'm comin' back with ya'll then." Daryl must have given Merle a bit of a worried look, because he added "Calm the hell down, brother. I just want to get a decent meal in me. Put the past behind me a long time ago."

"Then why'd ya'll ask?" Daryl questioned. He didn't want to deny his brother, his only kin. He still could barely believe that Merle was there, in the flesh, talking to him like it had only been a few days since they last saw each other. On the other hand, Daryl had gained a lot of respect for Rick, and he didn't want Merle to come back and upset the careful balance of the group. "Ya'll can come with us, but no more bullshit. Past is the past Merle."

"No problem. It's good to see ya brother." Merle cracked a smile.

They gathered what they originally came for and made their way back through the alleys to the place where Glenn and Scott agreed to meet them. Glenn looked like he was seeing a ghost when Merle came into view.

"Asian kid's still here…" Merle said, mostly to himself.

"Oh, hey Merle…um…what the hell are you doing here?"

"Don't sound to happy to see me, do ya sonny? Well screw you too," Merle growled.

Scott looked completely confused. "Why are you two beat up?" he asked, looking between Marco and Daryl. He shook his head and then looked at Merle, his eyes grazing his stump of a hand. "And who are you?"

"His brother," Glenn said, pointing at Daryl. "He was with us before…then some stuff happened."

"Yeah, just some stuff," Merle said, mockingly. "No big deal."

Daryl was filled with happiness at the return of his brother; it meant not dealing with some of the stupid decisions of the group alone. Scott extended a hand and Merle shook it. "Well I'm Scott, and this is Marco. Will you be joining us at my house for dinner tonight?"

The invitation sounded so formal it was nearly ridiculous. Merle nodded and shook his hand, and the five of them got into the cars. Daryl wondered how everyone would react when they got back to Scott's house, seeing Merle for the first time since Atlanta.

Tension arose almost immediately when Merle got out of the car and T-dog and Rick came outside. "Hey there, Officer Friendly," Merle shouted across the dehydrated and crisp brown lawn. It was bound to be a night full of stress.

Everything was explained to Rose and Sarah over dinner, though Daryl took no part in the explanation. He held an icepack over his eye, the only place on his face that Marco had managed to hit him. No one questioned their injuries as they were so focused on the returned member of the group. Rick apologized to him, saying that he just wanted to keep the situation under control. Merle said he accepted the apology, but Daryl knew he didn't mean it. Merle had always been one to hold grudges for life.

Daryl looked at Sarah, who was sitting at the end of the table. He thought about what Marco had said to him, and that he should apologize. She looked up from her plate and met Daryl's eyes, the dark blue irises showing him her sadness and confusion. He felt overcome with guilt and quickly looked away.

Since Merle and him and been reunited, it made Daryl wonder if he could let himself fall for her after all. Maybe he had nothing to be afraid of; he'd protect her…Of course, that would mean putting her before him every time they were in a dangerous situation, but for the first time Daryl thought it might be worth it. He pushed her from his mind again and left the table.

After dinner, Daryl and Merle sat on the back porch: two brothers, reunited. "Seems there's a lot of people gone…"

"Yeah…lots of close calls for everyone."

"These new people are kinda strange. That blonde's pretty hot, though," Merle commented, pointing his chin in her direction. As usual, Rick and Lori were nowhere to be found, and watching their kid was always everyone else's responsibility. So she was playing with Carl in the water, her short shorts and low-cut tank top wet from the splashes. Daryl's body ached for her once again; he lusted for her so badly, but knew only complicated emotions would come with sex. Not to mention that he'd burned any bridge of trust or friendship that had been built.

"She's some sort of brain doctor, said she's got a cure. At least she hopes so…we're headed up to the Harvard labs in a couple days so she can do her research," Daryl said, his mind still floating back to the night in the forest and her delicate outline in the moonlight.

"Another city bitch...it's probably all a bluff, brother. Don't get yer hopes up too high now."

"I've seen her work," he said, feeling a little defensive. "It's not a lie."

"Jesus Christ." Merle laughed and shook his head. "Jumpy as ever. Ya'll got the hots for her huh?"

"Doesn't matter. We all believe her."

"My little brother, in love with a snob. Bet she's never given you the time of day, we're not her kind."

Merle was voicing all the stereotypes that Daryl had imagined a couple nights ago. Hearing them from someone else made him realize even more how ignorant he'd been. "Screw you Merle, I fucked her. Doesn't mean I'm in love." Daryl had lied about sleeping with her, but he figured it wasn't a total lie. He probably would have went all the way with her if his thoughts hadn't gotten in the way.

"Bullshit."

"Why do ya'll think her ex-boyfriend and I were fighting back there. Ain't cause I _didn't_ sleep with her."

Merle gave him one more look of disbelief before shrugging. "Guess she got pretty messed up in the head after everything. Must be, if she slept with you…"

"Man, screw you," Daryl said. They finished their conversation just before she walked up from the ocean to go inside.

Merle spoke to her as she approached them. "Hey there sweetie, grab me a beer out of the cooler?" He pointed at the cooler that was sitting less than a foot away from him.

"Don't be a dick," Daryl hissed under his breath.

"Sure," she said. Sarah was way too nice, one of those people who went out of their way to help people who didn't even help it. Merle was a prime example.  
She leaned toward them to get into the cooler and Daryl saw Merle's eyes travel in a straight line from her face to down her shirt. He fought the urge to beat the shit out of his brother and balled his hands into fists. "Thanks sugar," said his brother, smiling, as she handed it to him.

"You're welcome," she smiled back kindly and walked past Daryl into the house, without giving him a glance.

"What the hell was that?" he asked Merle once she was out of earshot.

"Just lookin', don't pay it no mind, boy." He popped open the drink and took a long gulp.

"Don't talk to her anymore," Daryl said. He didn't know why Merle had made him so upset; it surely wasn't the first time Daryl had seen him act inappropriately to a woman. But this time, he was fuming. "She's mine, goddamn it."

**Sorry I posted this chapter a little later in the day than usual :/ I had a very busy night after school! I hope you all liked this chapter; I know there was a lot going on. Sorry if it seemed rushed or anything, I tried to describe things well. Anyways, "Help, I'm Alive" is at almost 3000 hits! Whoa, thanks everyone! Also, huge thanks to those of you who have reviewed. I love the support, keep it coming :p. And to those of you who haven't reviewed…please do! It gives me an idea of what you want to happen in the series. Since it's my night off, I'm gonna watch The Boondock Saints with my friend…hooray for a movie starring Norman Reedus 3 haha. Hope everyone has a great weekend; I'll be back with an update on Monday! **


	13. A Leisurely Jog

**A Leisurely Jog**

_Sarah_

She went upstairs to her room and plopped down on her bed, not knowing what to think of Daryl (which was nothing new) or his brother. Sarah had noticed how Merle peeked down her shirt when she bent over, and she had fought the urge to slap him. She decided that he was easily the most offensive man she had ever met. Thankfully, Rose hadn't seen Sarah get him the beer. If she did, she would have had a conniption fit and bitched to Sarah about how wrong it was to help out the opposite sex and fulfill the traditional gender roles. She definitely saw Rose's point, in at least that situation; Merle had asked her to get it for him just because he wanted her to, not because he couldn't.

Sarah had also taken notice of his many offensive remarks over dinner. She was still rather confused about how Merle had gotten left behind and what it had to do with T-Dog and Rick, but it was obvious that he was still holding it against them, even if he pretended to be over it.

The Dixon brothers just seemed like trouble, and she vowed that she would stay away from the both of them. Marco and Rose and really been right the whole time. While she was happy that Daryl had found his brother, the two of them were just too wild for her. Comparatively, Sarah had grown up in a world of formalities and basic chivalry.

Also, Sarah couldn't help but wonder what happened in the city between Marco and Daryl. Marco had been painfully vague about everything. All he told her was that Daryl wasn't worth her time, which wasn't any new information to her. She turned to Rose, who was sitting on the other twin bed next to Sarah's, and asked, "Did Marco say anything to you about his fight with Daryl?"

"Nah. I think they were just being guys…they're both the type to pick a fight over nothing, so I'm not too surprised. I mean Marco probably said something about you and Daryl got fed up with it. You know how Marco is…he can push people to their limits pretty quickly."

Sarah nodded in agreement, having experienced that frustrating quality of Marco herself. She was just glad that they had both come back okay. As mad as she was at Daryl for the way he had treated her lately, she couldn't help worrying for him while he was gone. The biggest sigh of relief had left her lungs when she saw him climb out of the car. Things must have gone very smoothly during the mission; no one had any horror stories to tell, and everyone brought back a good amount of supplies.

She was so tired of obsessing over Daryl, but it continued to plague her and dominate her thoughts. Sarah was just completely clueless as to his reasoning. This was an odd, and even more troubling, thing for her because she was usually so quick to figure out other people. She did have a minor in psychology, after all.

Sarah sighed, deciding she needed to try and distract herself. She pulled out her notebook that contained her theory for the cure, a complex idea confined to only a few pages. She worked on it almost every night before going to bed, sometimes adding to the writing, and other times rewriting what she had already completed to make it more concise and easier to comprehend for the others. The most difficult thing about writing a theory was definitely learning to put abstract thoughts into words and make them comprehensible to others. So far, she hadn't been able to fulfill that goal; not that anyone had really tried to read it either. It made her a little sad that no one seemed to take interest in her work as the actual process unfolded, only the potential outcome. Perhaps, she reasoned, the survival situation made the others focus on only one thing: survival. The explanation seemed reasonable to her at least. She supposed she couldn't really blame them for being preoccupied with other things.

Tonight, however, the pages and pages of her scrawl held no escape for her from her thoughts of Daryl. She looked out the window to see that the sun was just beginning to set. Rose had either taken a nap or gone to bed early, so Sarah didn't bother saying goodbye as she grabbed her blue and white Nike tennis shoes and headed downstairs.

Everyone seemed to have already dispersed to their rooms, except for Daryl and Merle. Sarah could see their outlines through the window; they were still sitting on the back porch. She didn't want to deal with either of them, so instead of going out the back door, she exited through the front. She crossed the prickly grass of the lawn and picked up a moderate jog on the road.

It had been too long since she last had the chance to run (well, for recreational purpose at least). She was nearing the end of her year-long marathon training plan when the infection occurred. The pounding of her feet on the paved road felt like heaven; her head was immediately cleared. The only thing missing was her seemingly endless supply of music on her iPod. Unfortunately, it had been left behind in New York by accident the day of the plane ride. Not that it really mattered- there was no place to charge it now anyways.

Sarah focused her vision on the setting sun, wishing they were in California near the Pacific instead of the Atlantic so that the sun would set over the water. Her breathing fell into a regular pace as she worked through the winding subdivision roads that led away from Scott's beach house. It was the kind of subdivisions her parents would approve of. They all featured gates and fences, each with two stories or more. The outside, though unkempt, left the general feeling of grandeur. Sarah felt a twinge of pain inside as she remembered her parents, wondering if they were still alive and in the city, or if they had somehow gotten away before everything went to hell.

She was about to turn the corner and run down Hemingway Path, as the road sign announced, when something grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a large flowering bush. Sarah was too surprised to even scream.

"What the fuck do y'all think yer doin'?"

She immediately recognized the rough voice that had asked her this question and she ripped her arm out of his grip in response. "Running…thought that was pretty obvious, Daryl," she said mockingly.

"Did it even occur to ya that it's unsafe to go running around, especially at night? A walker could have been following you this whole time. Ya know, for a doctor, y'all are really lacking in the common sense department. It's not that goddamn hard. Not just yer safety either…coulda led a whole pack of 'em back to Scott's."

Sarah felt guilty because of his last remark. "I'm sorry. I honestly just wanted to clear my head, I didn't even think about the walkers."

"No shit." He shook his head.

Sarah felt her temperature rise and her face turning red. Never before had she experienced such outright rudeness. She didn't lose her temper often, but his cold responses and insults were making her blood boil. "What the hell is your problem? Should have just let me get bit by a walker, wouldn't make a damn difference to you."

He looked at her for a few painstaking seconds. Then, "How can ya say that? Y'all think I want ya to die? What kind of sick bastard do ya think I am?"

"Gee, maybe the kind that would lead me on and then completely turn on me and blow me off. I don't know who the hell you are, Daryl. You've made damn sure of that," she put plenty of contempt into each word. Her level of aggravation continued to rise.

"Yeah? Well you go ahead and tell me what the fucking point is to get close to people. We're all gonna die off one by one in the end. If you don't think that, you've got to be the stupidest bitch I've ever met."

She stopped herself from slapping him. "Well, I don't think that's true…I think there's hope. It's not my fault that you've completely abandoned it. I guess if that makes me a stupid bitch, I'll accept it."

"Oh yeah, the precious cure. Y'all are fooling us _and_ yourself if ya really think there's a way to fix this fucked up world we live in now."

His words stung like a hundred wasps. Sarah had always been a sensitive person, and she felt tears jump to her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek, hard, to prevent herself from letting one escape. Her body betrayed her as one slid down her cheek and fell to the ground. She just hoped that it was too dark for him to see.

Sarah shook her head and turned to leave, but Daryl grabbed her arm and turned her back toward him. His eyes had softened somewhat. "Look, I didn't mean that. I say a lot of shit I don't mean when I'm pissed."

"I don't even know what I did to piss you off Daryl," she said exasperatedely.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I dunno…I guess it's just the fact that y'all are so careless with everything ya do. Don't know how to survive."

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't prepare more for this. If I was given the chance I would have. I know I shouldn't have gone running. I'll try to think about things more carefully. But I need you to tell me why you've been so distant, because it's driving me up the damn wall."

He sighed and didn't respond for a few seconds. She was afraid that he'd just blow her off again. Thankfully, that wasn't the case this time. "I was just thinking about a lot…It's too much to explain."

"Please tell me? I'm sick and tired of wondering about it."  
"I don't know how to put it into words. I'm sorry."

Sarah gave up and sighed; obviously, she would never get an answer from him on the topic. She was still upset at all the cruel things he'd said to her, but thought it was best to just let it go. He'd apologized once and she knew better than to accept another. "Just stop being so cold to me."

"No more bullshit," he said in his usual serious tone. "We should start heading back though. Gettin' pretty dark."

They began walking again, and Sarah didn't know how to feel. She was glad he was finally done being cold to her, but she wasn't satisfied with his "answers" to her questions that had been plaguing her so often in the past couple days. He did, however, mention something to do with the fact that he didn't want to get close to anyone…Sarah figured that probably had a lot to do with his distance. She decided that she would have to take this as his answer to his previous behavior.

Daryl and Sarah reached Scott's backyard. By this time, everyone else was inside and likely asleep. She was walking toward the house when Daryl laid down in the sand. Sarah paused, contemplating if she should join him or not.

_'Oh, what the hell,_' she thought. _'What do I have to lose at this point?'_

They just stayed there in silence, looking up at the many constellations and the brilliantly shining moon.

"I'm not used to being able to see the stars," Sarah said to him. "The city was always too bright to do anything like this."

He didn't respond, but turned his head and looked at her for a few long seconds and she felt his rough hand cover hers. Sarah closed her eyes and just enjoyed the moment. She kind of liked that he was quieter and didn't start meaningless conversation all the time, unlike guys she had dated before that troubled her with every detail with their lives. The only difference was that Sarah wanted to know everything about Daryl; he was so mysterious to her.

"It's pretty lucky that you found your brother," Sarah said. "Seems like….quite the character."

"Y'all have no idea," Daryl said. His voice sounded distracted, like his mind was in some far-off place. "Sorry about earlier, he can be a real asshole sometimes."

"It's not a big deal," she said, though she was glad Daryl had apologized on his brother's behalf. "So what happened in Atlanta? Everyone was so vague about it."

"Guess he started trouble and Rick cuffed him to the building. They had to leave in a hurry and T-Dog dropped the key down a drain. Merle's one unlucky bastard."

"So he cut off his hand? I can't believe he survived; it must have been bleeding like crazy." Sarah had to assume that the Dixon brothers featured a different kind of knowledge, opposite her own. Sarah was book smart, but they had what it really took to survive in such a harsh world. It made Sarah wonder how she was still alive. Seemed like Sarah was the lucky one, not Merle.

There was another long, though not uncomfortable, silence. After a while, the silence made her mind drift to some less than pure thoughts, mostly focusing on their encounter in the forest a couple of days before. Perhaps he was thinking about the same thing, because he rolled on his side toward her and kissed her cheek. He kissed her a second time, this one on her lips.

Daryl's hand rested on her cheek at first, but then it traveled down her neck and arm, brushing her breast on the way down. Her breathing quickened; it surprised her once again how fast he could turn her on. He pulled himself closer to her so that he was half on top of her body. The stiff prod to the side of her hip was a signal that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

Sarah wondered if she was doing the right thing by letting him have his way with her so soon after his odd behavior. She didn't know if it classified her as a slut or not, but she decided she didn't care. After everything, she was still undeniably attracted to him and drawn to him in a way she'd never experienced, even with Marco. Sarah knew she hadn't completely forgiven him, but that would come with time. Trust couldn't be rebuilt over the course of one conversation; she'd just have to get to know the true Daryl to find out if he was worth the second chance or not.

In the midst of her thoughts, Daryl's hand slipped under her tank top and rubbed her breasts, circling her nipples that were pointy due to the cool night air. He broke their kiss and exhaled. "We should go somewhere else."

She nodded, looking up at the house and realizing that if anyone was to get up in the night and look out the window, they could easily see Daryl and her beach make-up/make-out session. Daryl stood first and offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet once she took it.

They walked down the beach to Scott's neighbor's lawn. There were several flowering bushes, similar to those that they had just hidden behind while close to the road. From the house, it would be impossible to see the two.

Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes so that she could reach his lips. He leaned down slightly and kissed her back hungrily, running his hands through her hair that was now full of sand. They lowered back down to the ground and Sarah pulled his undershirt off from over his head. He tore off her green tank top in a swift movement, following suit, and then her sports bra quickly followed.

Then he slid off her shorts and underwear, leaving her completely naked on the cool sand. He kissed her collarbone and brushed her hair back from her face. He kissed her again, this time with his mouth open. His warm tongue slid inside her mouth and it circled hers. Meanwhile, Daryl had started fingering her.

Sarah moaned a little and reached down to feel his package, realizing he still had his pants on. Even through them, she could tell he was well-endowed. His finger sped up and Sarah unzipped his pants. She was having trouble with the button, so he stopped kissing her for a moment to help her out.

He stepped out of his pants and she saw that her predictions of his endowment had been correct. Daryl was on top of her in a few seconds. He fingered her again and propped himself up over her. Their eyes locked and she worried that he would turn on her again, but fortunately, that didn't happen.

Daryl removed his fingers and brought his arm up to the other, holding himself even further above her. He kissed her again and used his dick to tease her clit. She moaned and pushed her hips closer to him, wanting him to get the message that she wanted him inside her. He lifted himself further away and teased her once more.

It was driving her crazy. "Daryl, please."

"Please what?" he smirked and whispered in her ear.

"Stop teasing me!"

"What, like this?" Daryl circled her clit with his erection once more.

"Yes." She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself to him. He finally gave in and was about to enter her, when, in a cruel twist of events, they heard voices coming from Scott's backyard.

"Shit." Daryl leaned toward the bushes and peered through them. "God damnit."

"What?" Sarah whispered. He gestured that she should look through the brush and see for herself. Glenn and Maggie were on the beach, now making out and stripping down. "Oh my God," was all she could manage.

**I'm back from the weekend, hooray! Hope you are all ready for another week of updates. So Daryl and Sarah are okay again yayy :) As always, please review and keep reading! I'm pretty religious about updating in case you haven't noticed by now :p**


	14. The Departure

**The Departure**

_Daryl_

_'Goddamn horny teenagers,'_ Daryl thought as the young couple stripped on the beach. Sarah looked like she didn't know what to do, but Daryl knew that he wasn't going to stick around while they started going at it. He quietly put his clothes back on and handed Sarah hers, as disappointed as he was to see her put them back on.

When she was dressed, they walked through Scott's neighbor's yard to the front of the house and stood on the street in front of Scott's. Sarah laughed and shook her head. "I can't believe that just happened."

"Well at least one of us finds it amusing," Daryl growled humorlessly.

Sarah shrugged and smiled again. "It's just my luck." She stepped a bit closer to him and took his hand in her tiny one. Squeezing his palm, she added "I really want you right now, by the way."

"Tomorrow night?" Daryl asked, hopefulness present in his voice, though he tried to disguise it as cool indifference.

Sarah shook her head again. "No, Scott said he wanted to leave tomorrow if possible. And it's a five day trip. He said we have to sail slowly so that some of the boat's power can be used for the living quarters."

Daryl let his hands glide over her slim shoulders. "Another week? Damn."

"If you look on the bright side, we'll have power on the boat. And at least when we get to the labs we'll have a bed and a bit more privacy. It's kind of difficult to do anything secretly when we're all holed up in the same house here. Privacy is going to be even more limited on the boat." Sarah said with an air of optimism that was basically the opposite of Daryl's everyday attitude. He'd always been a glass half-empty kind of guy. And he didn't _want_ to look on the bright side; he just wanted to be on top of her again.

When Daryl looked at her blankly, she kept talking. "Plus, I've always heard waiting makes it better." She gave him a mischievous smile and felt his pants where he was still hard and yearning for her. After teasing him with that one swift touch, she stood on her toes, kissed him on the cheek, and said "Goodnight Daryl."

He watched as she went into the house and noticed for the first time the way her hips swung back and forth with a sweet gracefulness as she walked. He was affronted again with the harsh reality of a whole week's wait.

Soon after she reached the door and gave him one last glance, Daryl followed behind her into the darkened house. He cautiously climbed the stairwell that led to the bedrooms, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was a skill of his, essential for the incalculable midnight hunts on which he had embarked. He remembered that his was the first on the right side of the hall.

Daryl stripped down to his underwear before climbing under the covers of the bed. His mind spun with the events of that night; so much had happened in so little time. Even though they had barely done anything, he felt exhausted, if only emotionally so.

He hadn't planned on apologizing to Sarah when he went looking for her during her run. He'd only meant to scold her and bring her back to the camp, but now he wondered if subconsciously there was some motive there initially to make things right with her. Daryl ended up saying a lot of things to her that he regretted, a common occurrence whenever he lost his temper and let his mouth work before his brain had a chance to catch up.

Fortunately, she had acted understanding about it all and didn't seem to be holding it against him, but he still felt guilty for his harsh words and way he'd treated her. It reminded him of when he once yelled at Carol, and then Daryl wondered why he constantly kept pushing away the people who cared for him. Was it that he was afraid to hurt them, or that he was afraid to get hurt? Daryl couldn't decide, and he wasn't in the mood to confront his inner conflicts, so he thought back again to the rest of the night's events.

Somehow they had ended up naked under the stars. Daryl could see her body in his mind, splayed out across the sand, waiting for him to enter her. He thought of the way she nearly begged him to get inside her.

With all these thoughts, Daryl found that he was torturing himself. He wanted her body more than ever, but thanks to Glenn, he'd have to wait a whole week for that. Daryl supposed that it was better than Sarah being pissed at him, but wanted more than anything to make her scream his name in pleasure and arch her back in ecstasy.

Thanks to _Glenn_, all that would have to wait. Daryl looked up at the ceiling, completely annoyed. It seemed extremely unfair that the kid who got some every night from his new girlfriend was having sex on the beach at the very moment when Daryl, who hadn't had sex in months, was foiled in his attempts. Not to mention the fact that Glenn didn't even try to hide it; they were just out on the middle of the beach! Daryl supposed that this had to do with the fact that old man Hershel wasn't around anymore to check up on Maggie.

_'Only five more days…'_ he reminded himself, though it wasn't particularly reassuring. With Sarah in such close proximity at all times, it would be nearly impossible to keep his desires at bay. It would be a true test of his patience, that was for sure.

Then Daryl thought about the quickly upcoming trip via Scott's yacht. He always hated the open water, and the idea of being on the boat for five days straight made him nauseous just to think about. At least things with Sarah were better, so the ride wouldn't be unbearably awkward, thought Marco could be an entirely different story.

He wondered if he'd made the right choice about apologizing and trying to start things with Sarah again. Daryl had never been used to caring about people, even before the apocalypse took place. Perhaps he would learn with her, but he couldn't help but to be extremely cautious with his emotions.

With his eyelids drooping in exhaustion, Daryl eventually fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, he realized he must have slept later than usual because of the noise of the group downstairs. He could even hear Merle talking, which surprised him because Merle had never been one to get up early.

Daryl slipped on a dirty gray t-shirt and jeans before heading downstairs to join the others. They were all sitting around in Scott's living room. When Daryl entered the room, Sarah caught his eye and gave him a quick smile before returning back to the conversation.

He sat next to Merle and asked in a groggy voice "What are y'all talking about?"

"They decided we're leavin' on that boat today," Merle said.

"When?"

"Round noon I expect. It's gonna take a while to get all the shit together. Mind steppin' outside with me for a sec?" he asked.

Daryl followed him out the front door, Merle closing it behind them. "You sure you wanna go through with this? You and I could always go back home, try to set up a fort there or something. I still dunno about these people. And once we're up there, there's no comin' back I expect."

Daryl thought for a moment while Merle looked at him expectedly. He knew that Merle wanted him to accept his offer to go off on their own, but Daryl just couldn't justify it. Sure, they could survive with Merle's sheer toughness and Daryl's flair for hunting, but what was the point of going back to their hometown? "Don't ya think it's going to be overrun by now? I mean, it wasn't even good when we left." Daryl pointed out.

"Well we could at least go see if there are any other survivors we know…We could start our own group where _we're_ the ones makin' the rules. Not some washout sheriff and his wannabe posse."

"I don't want to deal with anyone from back home," Daryl said. It was true; while he was growing up, all Daryl wanted to do was get as far away from his hometown as possible. However, since he dropped out of high school, college wasn't a viable plan. No one ever seemed to live his miniscule town. So until the infection he'd been stuck there, and now Merle was asking him to go back? Not likely.

"You don't think Pa's around still? He was a tough bastard, I wouldn't be surprised," Merle said, referring to their father.

"Screw him…I ain't going back for him, y'all know he wouldn't do the same for us." Daryl was pissed that Merle had even suggested helping the bastard.

"Alright, alright. So we'll go with these city people. If they end up leadin' us to harm, though, it's gonna be on your hands brother."

"Well they ain't. Sarah said there's even power on the boat. Guess it must be battery or somethin'."

"What about your bike? You just gonna leave it here?"

He had completely forgotten about his precious motorcycle! "Oh shit, I don't even know," Daryl said. "I'll talk to Scott about it later." He could barely imagine leaving his bike behind, his only true important material possession, save for his crossbow. It was the one thing that Daryl still had from his life before the infection, and he knew he didn't want to let it go.

They went back inside to see that the group had already dispersed and was beginning to gather supplies for the long voyage. Daryl searched the house for Scott, but to no avail.

"Good morning," Sarah smiled and walked up to him. "I fixed you a plate while you and Merle were outside."

The smell of bacon and French toast wafted toward him as she handed him the plate. She must have been cooking over Scott's propane camping stove, as the power in the house was obviously shut off. As Sarah gave him his breakfast, he saw Rosalyn eyeing them with suspicion out of the corner of his eye.

"Thanks," he gave her a half-smile and asked her where Scott was.

"On the boat I think," she said. "Getting the navigation and other stuff set up. Or something like that. I don't really know what any of the boat lingo is."

"Okay, well I gotta go talk to him about taking my bike with for the ride. I dunno if I could just leave it here."

Sarah waved her hand lightly. "It'll be fine. Enjoy your breakfast!"

He took a few savory bites as Rosalyn stared at him with narrowed eyes. Daryl shot back a "what the fuck do you want" sort of look before going outside to find Scott. He took the plate of food with him, impressed once again by Sarah's cooking ability. She seemed like the quintessential woman, what with her talents of cooking and cleaning, but her impressive medical education made her even more surreal in a way.

As she predicted, Scott was busy on the boat. Daryl stepped on and was already put off balance by its rocking on the water. It would be a long five days.

"Hello Daryl, about ready to set sail?"

"I guess. I was meaning to ask ya if I could bring my motorcycle along…"

"Of course, T-dog and Rick are actually going to get it right now and are putting it down in the bottom storage."

"Oh…wow. Well thanks then," Daryl said, surprised at Scott's thoughtfulness. He was the perfect gentlemen, always thinking of others; it rather reminded Daryl of Dale. It occurred to Daryl that Scott wasn't cut out for this world, they had just simply gotten by on luck. His group hadn't been forced to make difficult decisions like Daryl's had.

He waited on the boat for Rick and T-dog to show up with his motorcycle, and finally they rolled it through Scott's backyard and up to the dock. Daryl helped lift it on and they strapped it to the place in the floor where Scott told them to. He was inside the cabin and flipped a few switches out of the thousand that were on the control panel. A large rectangular portion of the floor that contained Daryl's motorcycle slowly lowered itself to the bottom of the boat and a new rectangular piece slid across the opening into place. He rubbed his eyes at first, wondering if that really happened.

"Damn, how'd you afford this thing?" Daryl questioned.

"I was a good investor," Scott smiled and lovingly rested a hand on the shiny control panel. "I don't even know how to work this thing; Brenda and I had only been in it a few times over the course of last summer." He looked sad, but Daryl didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at consoling people for the most part.

After a while, Daryl got off the boat and made his way back up to the house to grab his few belongings out of the room he had stayed in. On the way, he passed by Glenn and gave him a dirty look, though he knew Glenn wouldn't know what the look was about. It didn't matter; he was just a kid and would be too afraid to question it anyhow.

Instead of looking confused, however, Glenn just beamed at him. "Everything alright Daryl? It looks like you didn't sleep well last night."

"My night could have been better…"

"Sorry to hear. Mine was….great. I don't want to leave this place, it's like a vacation. Barely any walkers! And let me tell you, the view of the sky at night is amazing." Glenn was all smiles and Daryl knew just the reason why.

"Oh well isn't that great?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I wouldn't know."

Glenn patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you can make things okay with Sarah again. Just be yourself, I've got faith in you."

Daryl let out a deep breath when Glenn finally walked away, trying to prevent himself from losing his temper and exploding on the ignorant kid. He went upstairs and threw his clothes, crossbow, arrows, knives, and other weapons and survival gear into his bag. On his way back outside, he saw Merle sitting at the picnic table next to the porch, getting his fill of Sarah's cooking.

Rosalyn walked by on her way to the house. Merle yelled to her, "Hey sweetness, mind being a doll and runnin' this plate inside for me? Also, I could use a glass of water."

She gave him a reproachful look, something that Daryl saw coming, even after only a few days of knowing her. In a sassy tone she replied "I thought you were only missing a hand, not a leg too."

"Fine, be a bitch about it," Merle said under his breath as she turned and continued her path to the house. Daryl wondered if he'd ever learn to stop asking women to wait on his every need. Sarah's compliance the other day hadn't helped; it just empowered him. It wasn't all Merle's fault though; their upbringing had more to do with it than anything else. During the Dixon brothers' childhood, they witnessed their mother as a slave to their father's demands. Naturally, Merle just expected that it was how all marriages worked. Somehow Daryl hadn't been fooled by these unfounded notions. If he ever pictured himself in a relationship, it was one in which he was the provider and protector; never the other way around.

"She's a difficult one," Daryl said, turning back to Merle. "Don't even try talking to her…she's some kinda vegan or vegetarian. I don't know what the hell the difference even is, but it's one of those. And she's an environmentalist…and…" Daryl paused, not sure if he should even tell Merle the last thing he knew about her. "She's a feminist."

"Well what a priss; thinks she's better than the whole damn world, don't she? Well she ain't. I thought we got rid of that feminism bullshit in the nineties anyways."

Daryl shrugged and got on the boat. The rest of the group soon joined him. The sun blazed down upon them and it felt at least 85 degrees Fahrenheit, if Daryl had to wager a guess. Sarah was prepared for such hot weather; she climbed on the boat wearing very short shorts and a bikini top hat showed off her ample cleavage.

She told him that Scott always kept extra bathing suits at hand in case friends or relatives ever came to visit the beach house. Sarah had been just lucky enough to find one that fit her tiny frame. Daryl was glad that he would at least have a pleasant distraction, but he still dreaded the thought of being in the middle of the sea. Also, the more of her body that she showed off, the harder it would be for him to resist her.

Everyone stood on the deck of the boat and Glenn and Rick helped Scott untie it from the dock and pull up the anchor. At the moment, the ocean seemed calm and Daryl hoped it would stay that way for the entire journey. Scott started up the boat with a flick of a switch, and told them that the passenger cabin would have power for the entirety of the trip. Daryl gripped the handrail as the boat began to move, drifting at a slow, steady pace. He looked back at the shore and the spot in the sand where he and Sarah had laid in the wee hours of the night.

Then he turned and looked ahead at the dizzying span of open water. Two minutes in and he already felt nauseous.


	15. Ginger Tea

**Ginger Tea**

_Sarah_

By far, the best thing about being on the boat was the fact that they had power. The yacht had ample battery to sail at a leisurely pace while everyone in the group got to enjoy the luxuries of hot showers and a full set of kitchen appliance. Sarah felt so lucky that they happened to meet up with such a kind and well-to-do fellow such as Scott.

One positive side effect of the zombie apocalypse had been the chance for Sarah to work on her tan. In the city, she never went tanning in the common UV beds. Her fear of germs was one restriction; who knew if they really sanitized the beds after every use? Also, due to her medical training, something that put her at such a high risk of cancer seemed counterintuitive. So until the plane went down and the four of them started traveling by foot, she had been pale as a ghost. Now she sported bronzed features that would make the other doctors she worked with gape in envy.

It was day two of the journey by sea, and Sarah laid out on one of the several neon-colored deck chairs, looking up at the seagulls flying in circles above the boat. She had been fortunate enough to score one of the bikinis that Scott had stored away for future guests.

Sarah smiled on the inside whenever Daryl looked over at her, his eyes tracing her body. She knew she was driving him crazy in anticipation to get off the boat, and she liked it. At the same time, however, she couldn't help but to feel badly for him. He'd been seasick ever since they left the dock and it didn't appear to be getting any better. So while she at least was able to enjoy the sun and ocean scenery, he mostly hid inside the cabin.

"Ew," Rosalyn commented as he leaned over the side of the boat and heaved, though nothing came up. Sarah gave her discouraging glare and got up from the lounge chair. She'd filled in Rosalyn about everything that happened between her and Daryl, but Rose was back to acting rude to him, probably due to her dislike of his older brother.

Sarah walked over to him and placed her small hand on his muscular shoulder. "Come on Daryl, let's go downstairs. You'll feel better when you can't see the ocean."

"Why the hell did I ever agree to this?" he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before reluctantly following her to the downstairs cabin.

A mess of sleeping bags beheld them. There were three bedrooms on the boat. Lori and Rick gained the first room because they were married. Glenn and Maggie got the next room because they were the only other legitimate couple, though Sarah couldn't look at them in the same way after their near encounter on the beach only a few nights before. The group insisted that Scott should inhabit the captain's quarters, since he had taken it upon himself to offer his house and boat for the group's purpose. He was reluctant at first, not wanting to appear rude, but eventually complied.

That left Merle, Sarah, Daryl, Marco, T-Dog, Rosalyn, and Carl to stretch out their sleeping bags in the main living area, where they were all packed in like sardines.

Sarah walked Daryl to his sleeping bag and told him to lie down. He followed her directions and rested his head. "Good," she said. "I'll be right back; I'm going to fix you something to drink that'll make you feel much better."

She walked to the kitchen and put some water on the stove to make a ginger tea, which she remembered as an ancient remedy for motion-sickness. Sarah delighted in the role of caregiver. Obviously, as a doctor, she had liked being a caregiver too; but it felt different to treat someone that she was attracted to and was at least somewhat emotionally invested in. It gave her a good feeling, one of importance, like she wasn't completely useless to the survival of the group. She wasn't going around killing walkers, but hey, if anyone needed an herbal or even prescription remedy, Sarah was there to save the day.

Sarah returned to him and knelt on her knees at his side. She handed him the mug and told him to drink it all.

After one sip, he made a face and looked up at her. "What the hell, are y'all trying to make me more sick?"

"It's ginger, and it'll help. Just drink it. I've heard the stories about you and your survival. You can eat a raw squirrel and dig around in a zombie's stomach, but not drink a glass of hot tea? Damn, Daryl, you really are a piece of work." She smiled at him.

He gave her an "oh whatever" look and propped himself up to drink the rest of the tea in one gulp, obviously not finding the fact that she was teasing him amusing. He groaned and said "I'm gonna be sick again."

"No you aren't. Just lay back down, your body needs to get used to the swaying of the boat. It's nice and calm, see?" she added as he tilted his head back and rested it on his pillow.

"Well don't describe it, that only makes it worse," he sighed.

Sarah looked around to make sure that no one else was downstairs with them. She leaned down and kissed him, tasting the ginger on his breath.

"Feeling like shit isn't the only reason I can't wait to get off this damn thing," he said. He looked up at her for a moment and then closed his eyes, resting his head once more.

"I'm excited too," she said. Each minute that they got closer to Cambridge made Sarah's body want his more and more. It was plain torturous at night, with their sleeping bags pressed up against each other. Sometimes when the cabin was pitch black, he would slip his hand inside her sleeping bag and feel her up. Now, in the middle of the day and plain view of the stairs, she had to resist climbing on top of him and making love. When such thoughts entered her mind, Sarah decided it was best to get herself out of such a tempting situation. She told him she was going back upstairs to join the others and gave him one last kiss before doing so.

Merle didn't even ask about his brother when Sarah reached the surface. He was too busy getting wasted off of Scott's impressive bar stock and eye-raping the bikini-clad Rosalyn every chance he got, to her disdain.

Finally, she got fed up. "Do you need something, Merle?"

"I can think of a few things I _want_," he said suggestively, giving her a cocky smirk. Sarah shook her head; he would never learn. How hard was it to get the fact that she was a feminist and didn't simply bow to the wishes of men? Apparently, it was fairly difficult in Merle's case. Sarah was glad that his ignorance didn't appear to be genetic—Daryl never displayed the same possessive male tendencies that Merle did, not that they were an actual couple or anything.

Rick and Lori were busy talking to Scott at the front of the yacht. In her mind, Sarah referred to them as the "Power Triad", those with all the authority. Rick and Scott called the major shots and Lori, as Rick's wife, distributed the chores to the other women. Well, besides Rosalyn because she refused to do any housecleaning or cooking. The chores assigned to her had to be strictly survival related, such as gathering supplies. Sarah didn't mind the delegation, however, she just found it somewhat amusing.

Glenn napped in the sun while Maggie chatted with Rosalyn, mostly about their past lives. Sarah heard Rose mention something about how they should have legalized marijuana a long time ago, not that it mattered anymore anyways. Maggie looked offended and sharply disagreed with her on the subject.

T-Dog was leaning against the rail and looking out over the ocean with a serene look on his face. Sarah was about to ask where Marco was when his voice appeared behind her. "This whole thing reminds me of spring break fourteen years ago."

It felt like an eternity had passed since their high school days. Things had been so simple then…The trip really was a good one: they had flown to the Caribbean, courtesy of Sarah's parents, who paid for four tickets and expected Sarah, Rose, Josh (Rose's boyfriend at the time), and Rose's little sister Emily to go on the trip. Sarah and Rosalyn had never intended Emily to go; it was just their way of getting an extra ticket for Marco, who Sarah was forbidden to spend time with.

So Sarah, Rose, Marco, and Josh spent six days of paradise on a cruise; it was also the point where Sarah lost her virginity to him, something she regretted every day since. Marco was a good enough guy, but he'd always considered taking her virginity as some sort of personal achievement or claim over her, like a territory bearing a new country's flag.

"It was probably the best spring break we ever went on," he said, gazing at her warmly. She noticed that his face had finally healed from his previous brawl with Daryl. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in as they both looked out to the sea. "You know, if our flight would have ever made it to Florida, I would have asked you to go steady with me again. Just one last time and I would have made it worth it to you."

"You know I would have said no," she smiled sadly. Marco was her best friend, but she had given him way too many chances in the love department. All he did was let her down eventually. In the beginning, whenever they got back together, it was always wonderful: he'd buy her flowers, compliment her constantly, and make her feel like the most special woman in the world. It usually took about two months for things to start going downhill again and they'd start arguing. He'd broken her trust numerous times, but each time she fell back in love with him, or at least the idea of him as he was whenever they first started dating, though that always seemed to be an illusion. When Sarah thought about it, she didn't even know who Marco really was. Was he the one who cherished her or was he the one that broke her heart again and again? Too often, she couldn't decide and instead of pondering on it, it became easier and nearly habit to give him a second chance. This time, however, she wouldn't give in. She had Daryl to focus her energy on now; until that point, she always put Marco first.

"I don't believe you." He smiled at her with a nearly inexplicable air of confidence. She hated it when he was overly cocky. His arm over her shoulder felt suffocating and unwanted all of a sudden.

"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" she pointed out. "We never got to Florida. Guess it wasn't meant to be."

"You're honestly giving that hick another chance before me?" He laughed to himself in apparent disbelief. "I thought I'd never see the damn day."

"I thought you didn't care and that you just wanted me to be happy," Sarah said, repeating out his words from just a few days before. "What happened to that?'

"Well of course I do. I just know you'd be happier with me." Marco squeezed her shoulder.

She removed his arm and said "I'm never getting back together with you Marco, you know that last time was the last straw with you. And if you don't believe that, there's else I can say to convince you."

He looked hurt for a moment, but quickly recovered and walked away toward Rose. She watched him sit down, and as she did, Merle caught her eye with a suspicious glare. Great, now Daryl's brother probably thought there was something going on between them too.

After that moment, Sarah was nervous every time Merle went downstairs, in fear that he would tell Daryl something misleading about Sarah and Marco. She could understand why it might look suspicious from an outsider, but Marco and Sarah knew each other as deeply as two people could, and a friendly arm around the shoulder wasn't a big deal to them. All she could think of him now was as a brother, and she hoped Daryl would understand that if Merle did end up saying something.

Sarah went downstairs to check on Daryl again, feeling more apprehensive with each passing step.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, laying down next to him on the floor. His eyes were closed, but she figured he wasn't asleep and was just resting his eyes. When she began talking, he opened them and looked at her. He seemed docile enough, so Sarah doubted Merle said anything to him.

"Little better. Can't believe that shitty drink worked."

"Oh, want another glass?"

"No," he said shortly, though he seemed to be in better spirits. "Think I'll wait as long as possible for that hell."

"I still can't believe you're complaining so much! It's really not that bad."

He gave her an incredulous look. "And y'all have tasted it?"

"I used to drink tea all the time," she laughed when he made a face. "Anyways, I'm glad you're feeling better. I think Scott's going to get a game of poker going tonight, so you should come up to the deck with us later."

"We'll see," he said, giving her a noncommittal shrug.

He leaned over to her and kissed her lips slowly. "Thanks for helpin' me out today."

"Don't mention it. Oh! I wanted to talk to you about Merle…he keeps making advances to Rosalyn, and she's getting pretty fed up. I was wondering if you could say a few words to him about it…?" Sarah hoped that he wouldn't be offended by the fact that she brought up the subject; fortunately, he showed no signs of it.

"Like anything I'd say would make a damn bit of difference," Daryl scoffed. "It's best just to let him learn the hard way; let him get a slap in the face or the cold shoulder, then he'll quit."

"Well that shouldn't take too long, I'm pretty sure Rosalyn is on the brink with it all. She hates it when guys are too forward. Being on the boat doesn't help because we're all forced to be together all the time. When we get to the labs, things will be better."

Daryl nodded and told her he was going back to sleep. She watched him after he closed his eyes, though she felt a little creepy doing so. His hair was shaggy and fell in front of his face; she decided that she would offer to cut it for him when they got to shore. She watched as his breathing became steadier, a signal that meant his brain had switched from producing beta waves to alpha waves.

After a while, she went back up to the deck. The adults were all talking in a big group on one end of the boat. Carl was sitting on the tip of the other end, his feet dangling precariously over. She wanted to avoid talking to Marco and Rosalyn at the moment, so she approached the child that she was becoming very fond of. Sarah had always loved being around children; in some ways, they were wiser than most adults that she knew.

"Don't fall in," she said as she walked up behind him. Sarah hoped she didn't scare him and make him fall off in surprise.

Fortunately, he didn't take alarm in hearing her voice. "I won't! I'm being careful."

"Good, because I bet there are lots of hungry sharks down there."

"Shark attacks are rumors…they usually just eat other fish."

Sarah was often impressed at Carl's knowledge of the animal kingdom. "What kind of fish?"

"It depends on the shark, but pretty much anything smaller than they are." He gave her a know-it-all look.

"What's your favorite animal, Carl?" she asked, climbing on the end of the ship and sitting down next to him.

"Dolphins. They're super smart, even have a brain the size of a human's!" Suddenly he looked at her with wonder. "You're a scientist, did you ever research animals?"

It was refreshing to Sarah to see such pursuit of knowledge in an individual, and to find someone who actually seemed to value learning. "No," she admitted, hoping she wasn't disappointing him too much. "That was Hershel's field; he was a veterinarian. He probably didn't do research on animals, but he took care of them for other people. I do the same thing, except with humans. Sometimes I research too."

"Like for the cure?"

"Yes, like for the cure," she nodded.

The two had been so preoccupied in their conversation that they failed to notice the billowing black clouds that the wind was blowing their way, from the south. In alarm, Sarah ran across the deck to Scott and pointed. "We're about to have a problem. They look like storm clouds."

In confirmation to her statement, the sky let loose a thunderous tremor. The wind noticeably picked up. Nervously, she asked Scott "The boat will be able to handle it, right?"

"Well, I've never had it in a storm before…I don't think it'll fall apart or anything. We might get blown off course though…"

"Oh, that's reassuring!" Lori threw her hands up in exasperation "You've never driven this in a storm? It _might not_ fall apart?"

Scott was about to answer when Rick interjected. "Everyone, just stay calm. We're going to be fine. You should all go below deck until it passes. Scott and I will handle things up here."

As soon as they got below deck, violent waves began to rock the boat, and Daryl jolted awake. "What the hell-?"

"A storm," Sarah said.

"Oh, perfect."


End file.
